Harry Potter and the Coming of Fate
by Laeka
Summary: Harry Potter discovered his fate, but had he come to terms before his accident? Everyone has their own agenda, there are plots within plots, and while paths align the goals of those involved are quite dissimilar.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: This is J.K. Rowlings' world, I'm just playing in it.

**A Friends Betrayal:**  
_An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; A wild beast may wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind_  
  
Once Harry had been allowed into the back-seat of the car, he quickly closed his eyes and tried to close out everything he could in the waking world. His uncle having been thoroughly chagrined made it a point to show that he was not to be threatened in any way. And once Vernon was sure that they were away from prying eyes and the man in the bowler hat, he put his nephew in what he considered to be the boys' rightful place- under his highly polished tanned leather loafers.  
  
Harry didn't care anymore about the man threatening him and then back handing him for not responding, it seemed so pointless to him now. In the backseat of the car under Dudley Dursley's spiteful glare Harry's mind kept taking him back to the memory of being in Professor Dumbledore's office and having his world finally shatter.  
  
"I know how you're feeling, Harry," said Dumbledore very quietly.  
  
"Let me out," Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore's.  
  
"Not until I have had my say," said Dumbledore.  
  
"Do you- do you think I want to- do you think I give a- I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'VE GOT TO SAY!" Harry roared. "I don't want to hear anything you've got to say!"  
  
"You will," said Dumbledore steadily. "Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be."  
  
_'If I could have I would have torn him apart with my bare hands... if it would have done any good,'_ Harry thought to himself as he leaned against the safety glass of window across from where Dudley sat ignoring him.  
  
"...That blame lies with me, and with me alone."  
  
_'You and I both know that isn't true,'_ he inwardly groaned.  
  
"I guessed, fifteen years ago," said Dumbledore, "when I saw the scar on your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort."  
  
_'Guessed?'_  
  
"... So you see, I have been trying, in distancing myself from you, to protect you, Harry. An old man's mistake ..."  
  
_'Full marks for practical application of trying to placate your student Albus, bravo!'_ Harry thought shifting his head on the cool safety glass to try and soothe the pulsing scar above his right eye.  
  
"Kreacher lied," said Dumbledore calmly.  
  
_'One more for the list.'_  
  
"...He went to the only Black family member for whom he had any respect left ... Black's cousin Narcissa, sister of Bellatrix and wife of Lucius Malfoy."  
  
_'Two more.'_  
  
"People don't like being locked up!' Harry said furiously, rounding on him. "You did it to me all last summer!"  
  
_'I should have added the previous eleven years and four summers prior into that accusation... '  
_  
"It is time," he said, "for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me- to do whatever you like- when I have finished. I will not stop you."  
  
_'Did he really tell me everything, or are there still things that he's hiding from me that he thinks I'm not ready for?'  
_  
"My answer is that my priority was to keep you alive"  
  
_'Well here I am, back in hell... but wait, at least he gave me a reason,'_ he added lacing the words he heard in his head with all the sarcasm he possessed.  
  
"... I cared about you too much," said Dumbledore simply.  
  
_'LIAR!'_ Harry screamed into the face of the memory he saw of Dumbledore, eliciting a growl that everyone in the car could hear but chose not pay attention to.  
  
"... and I have watched you more closely than you can have imagined."  
  
_'How close?'_ he questioned while quieting the still lingering growl. The thought of Professor Dumbledore knowing more about him was only adding to the flames of his hatred.  
  
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."  
  
_'There goes any semblance of choice. I wonder if this means I can't kill myself or someone else other than Riddle can't kill me?'_  
  
Harry was pondering the possible ramifications of his latest dissection of the prophecy that now threatened to consume his consciousness when Vernon pulled the car to a slow halt in front of the garage door and number 4 Privet Drive in the village of Little Whinging, Surrey. He was the first to exit the car with his hand on Hedwig's cage holding her inside and was waiting at the boot of the car for Vernon to open it so he could retrieve his trunk before any of his other relatives were opening the doors.  
  
The skinny, raven haired boy dressed in clothes much too big for him did not want to be here for a moment longer than necessary and with a fleeting notion that the quicker he moved his things inside the quicker the end of the summer would come and he would be gone. He had already formulated a plan in case his relative became too much to bear which was teetering in his mind as to use it as soon as possible to insure their compliance; but he almost felt as if it was a shot to his pride that he might do what he was thinking, that by doing so would lower him because they weren't worth it. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen Harry surmised, it all depends on how much more he could endure at this point. Harry did not know that he would lose his patience so easily.


	2. Confrontation and Something of an Unders...

Confrontation and Understanding: Part I  
  
"BOY!" the grotesquely obese man shouted from the bottom of the stairs.  
  
Harry had only just made it to the top landing with his trunk in hand thumping along behind him, and Hedwig in her cage in his other hand when he heard the bellow from his uncle. Harry desperately wanted to lash out and attack the man screaming for him from downstairs. However, in light of recent events, Harry had resolved to damn up the overwhelming emotions that threatened to tear him apart from the inside out and focus- on what, he only had a slight idea, but the idea itself was enough to give him hope.  
  
Hope was something that this 15 year old boy desperately needed right now. What he did not need was a fat, obtuse and prejudiced man yelling at him only an hour after he had returned from school. It did not matter that his mind was still fluctuating between the memories of events at Hogwarts over the past term, and the death of his Godfather at the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic. No, that did not matter where he was right now. At the moment he was physically in the home of his blood relations, who had only ever been family in title; but that was more than he could allow himself for them to even possess now. As far as Harry was concerned; the last of his family had just died, save for his best friends Ron and Hermione who he considered to be his last link.  
  
The guilt he felt for the death of his Godfather Sirius Black he would deal with later, right now he had to deal with the current problem plaguing him- the one he could feel anger, resentment and embarrassment coming off in waves.  
  
So Harry placed his trunk at the top of the stairs and set Hedwig in her cage on top of it, collected himself as best he could and calmly descended the stairs one at a time preparing for what had been a long time coming.  
  
He would no longer tolerate his blood relations constant berating that he was worthless, an 'ungrateful whelp' as he was so often referred. It did not matter to them that from the moment he had been old enough to do what Petunia and Vernon ordered him to do he had done it, he was still the freak in their eyes that deserved the constant punishment, the unending abuse- mental and physical, and thank whatever deity was watching over him that he was a quick healer. Harry never mattered to them, but now was the time for them to realize everything that had ever happened to him as a result of their treatment. He would make them experience every moment of his suffering under their hands and more that they were indirectly responsible for.  
  
This was the first moment of his retribution, and he couldn't keep the smirk off his face thinking of paying them back nor could he shake the sinking feeling that these people had caused him to lower himself to doing this to them.  
  
"BOY!" and then Vernon stopped, his face was bright red, and anyone watching him could clearly see the veins straining to burst through the skin of his neck and forehead.  
  
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GRINNING AT? I WILL NOT STAND FOR THE EMBARASSMENT YOU JUST PUT ME THROUGH! HOW DARE YOU GET THOSE... THOSE FREAKS TO THREATEN ME! I SHOULD HAVE NEVER SHOWED UP TO PICK YOU UP, SHOULD HAVE LEFT YOU THERE AT THE STATION, MAYBE THEN WE'D BE RID OF YOU AND YOU COULD GO LIVE WITH THAT CRIMINAL YOU CALL YOUR GODFATHER!" Vernon's ranting came out so quickly that he didn't recognize Harry's consternation had changed from slight amusement from the sight of Vernon's indignation, to all out hate at the mention of Sirius.  
  
Petunia, who had been standing next to her husband however, caught the sudden change in Harry and a chill ran up her spine when her eyes locked onto his. She couldn't tell where the feeling had come from, but she had no doubt that it had something to do with her 'nephew'. Her mind kept turning to her sister and all the spiteful feelings she had ever harbored for her. 'Perfect Lily and that perfect looking James, her parents had been so proud, so proud that Petunia was always overlooked, even her meager achievements warranted no more than a pat on the back and a 'well done dear', whereas Lily could do no wrong- which she never did, and was rewarded greatly with the love and adoration of her parents'. That was all that she ever wanted from her parents, and since she never received it, and because in Petunia's mind Lily and James were responsible for her parents' death, this boy would pay, he would pay for everything. But she wasn't able to shake that cold sensation that hand gripped her spine and was unwilling to let go from when she looked at the boy. The boy did not have his, his stick so he could not be doing anything unnatural- it had to be fear of her husband, yes that was it, she reasoned. It had to be that she was afraid for her husband, but why she couldn't say.  
  
On the opposite side of Vernon, was Dudley. Who had by the looks of him completely transformed on his diet and exercise plan, the nutritionists must have beaten it into him somehow, or maybe the threat of an early heart- attack had finally changed him. Harry had never heard a thanks or any kind word from these people for what he had done for Dudley last summer so that could or could not have had something to do with his changed physical appearance. He was no longer portly, he was like a fireplug, five foot ten and from the looks of him built pretty solid from all of the pugilist training he had undergone. He too could feel the chill running up and down his spine, causing him to shudder and relive his experience with the Dementors the previous summer.  
  
Dudley did not really think that his cousin was a freak, just odd, and because of what he could do he was more than a little jealous, but his parents could never learn of his jealousy. So he never had the chance to really speak to Harry, even if it was just to say thanks for saving his life, or soul, or whatever his mum had dad said those things could do to him. Thus, being the only thing he could do was to act the way he always acted and do what was exactly expected of him, taunt and beat his cousin.  
  
Harry could feel all of these emotions coming off Vernon, Petunia and Dudley. It wasn't exactly Legilimency, it was something else. He could literally feel each and ever emotion like they were tangible; Vernon's hate, Petunia's jealousy and resentment, and oddly enough to him, Dudley's jealousy mixed with sorrow for what he had always been like to him, and awe for his cousin. Maybe, he did have someone here that he could...  
  
No, he may apologize for 11 years and 5 summers of hate and disgust but that does not excuse him. I may even accept his apology but that does not change anything.  
  
Vernon, just stood there getting redder by the second, ignoring the cold, ignoring everyone and everything but the boy  
  
"Dudley," Harry said, taking his off of Vernon.  
  
"Y- Yeah," he stuttered, not really knowing what to expect.  
  
"You have my sympathy," he said flatly. Not betraying himself to any kind of emotional outburst that would result in a ministry owl swooping in and informing him that he had broken the restriction for underage use of magic... whatever number paragraph, whatever subsection, and whoever was in charge of the department. Now was not the time to risk it.  
  
Dudley's eyes flashed for a moment, and then he saw a vision inside his head. Snape, had never shown Harry much of anything during their 'few' lessons; but Harry, unwilling to share any of his new found information from the Hogwarts library did not let anyone know that he could fake memories now, only small ones with his limited learning, but it was enough for what he needed now.  
  
Harry had shown Dudley that he couldn't forgive him for everything, but he was willing to try, and that Dudley should not show his change of heart to his uncle, lest he be the one of the receiving end of the abuse, even if he did look like he would be able to hold his own for a while.  
  
"You? Your sympathy? Sod off you FREAK!"  
  
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" Vernon bellowed again.  
  
That was the final outburst. Harry just couldn't take the yelling anymore.  
  
"Legilimens," Harry said softly, but with meaning and force behind it while holding Sirius' wand.

Three hours had passed since Harry had shown his... he really didn't know what to call them anymore. He wasn't able to say blood relations inside his head any longer; because that wasn't the kind of person he was or aspired to be. He didn't regret what he had shown them. He hadn't felt that he held any power of them, and for that he was grateful. Losing control and turning out to be the next Tom Riddle was something no one fathomed of him.  
  
While contemplating, what he needed to accomplish over the summer, the Dursley's finally began to stir.  
  
Vernon was the first. He had tried to get up, but only fell backwards on his fat arse and leaned against the couch pushing it back without meaning to with his bulk. Harry could see that Vernon was avoiding looking around for fear that he would see Harry. Harry could also see that Vernon still did not understand everything that he had been shown. The only sign of change was from Vernon's bright red face prior to what Harry had done to the complete pallor he was now showing the world..  
  
Petunia had been the second to rouse, and the moment her eyes opened and saw Harry sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch, she began sobbing wildly and muttering under her breath. Vernon's hand reached out to her shoulder and she instantly recoiled against it, but then though better of it and scooted herself over next to Vernon on the floor. Clinging to him like the world depended on it, she wailed into his shoulder. All that Vernon could do at that point was to slide his arm around his wife's shoulders and try to comfort her. How to do that he hadn't the slightest clue, but he'd try none the less.  
  
Dudley who still had not woken up since he passed out was being lightly shaken by Harry. Worried that he Dudley might not have handled the memories of the Dementors too well, Harry started to second guess himself. But thankfully, Dudley stirred, sat up and looked shocked to see Harry standing over him with absolutely no emotion showing on his face. In Dudley's head he kept going over everything he had been shown, every death, every vision at night with the countless murders of not just men and women trying to defend themselves... but of helpless children and parents and people he didn't know and didn't know what they had deserved to be tortured for and then killed. Or worse from Dudley's stand, was the memory that stood out the worst from them all that Harry had shown him of a woman being murdered with a green light, while the man in the same room watched as the people in dark cloaks and white masked faces started to tear apart the body in front of him limb from limb while laughing like it was some game. This was the one memory that had sent Dudley over the edge causing him to turn on his side and vomit.  
  
Harry had tried to sympathize with these people. He was truly trying, but with everything that had ever happened in his life right up this point... and the people sitting on the floor in front of him that were responsible for his torment over a decade; he was finding it more than difficult. They were all so still now, Harry didn't know how they were going to react and Dudley's reaction Harry was surprised to see was not expressed by his parents; they just sat there.  
  
Pale faced, and utterly still, Vernon's eyes didn't move as he asked, "Was that... was that your whole life?"  
  
"No, the few happy memories I have, I keep to myself, thanks."  
  
Vernon finally turned, a little color coming back to his flabby cheeks, and tried to look at Harry but failed. Their eyes met for a second before his head dropped.  
  
"I want you all to listen to what I have to say. Are you well enough to do that?" Harry asked.  
  
Vernon look up, but not at him, Dudley, who was wiping the bile from his chin stared at Harry's shoes- which were actually Dudley's hand me downs; sending another wave of guilt over the boy. Petunia who had finally stopped wailing, but didn't cease to cry tried to look Harry in the eye as well, but only managed for a second longer than Vernon before she looked at the floor with her husband and son.  
  
Taking this as a sign of acquiescence, Harry started, "I'm sorry for what I just did, but in a few days I hope you'll understand why. There are certain things that I am going to have to do this summer, and I would appreciate it if you would let me be while I'm working. I will not get in the way of your day to day lives, and you may not even see me after tomorrow, I may leave or I may not, but you've all seen the reason for why I'm here now, right?"  
  
They all mumbled a yes in response.  
  
"I'm going to go up to my room now and get settled for the night. Tomorrow I have business to see too."  
  
"But, won't they stop you from leaving the area," Petunia burst out as soon as Harry finished.  
  
"They can most assuredly try," Harry said sounding a bit like Dumbledore he thought.  
  
Then the rage started to surface again, "You choose now to show concern about me?"  
  
No, I will not succumb to breaking apart in front of them, I will not, I REFUSE!  
  
Calmness enveloped him once more as he found a bit of serenity in the chaos that was his constant life.  
  
"I'm, we're... sorry for..." Petunia was trying to get out between her sobs.  
  
Kneeling in front of Petunia, he had the sudden urge to reach out and hug her, to try and find some piece of his mother in there. But he decided against it and placed a hand on her shoulder instead.  
  
"Don't," he started, "not now, I want everything I've shown you to sink in before you even start to apologize."  
  
Petunia's face now streaked with mascara lines, sank back in her husband trying to understand this boys life and make some sense out of it. Seeing from his eyes what she had subjected him to, what she had subjected Lily's son to- she abruptly passed out when she had that thought.  
  
Vernon looked at Harry as his wife passed out, thinking that Harry had tried to show her something else.  
  
"Relax, Vernon," Harry said, not even bothering with titles anymore. "She just passed out from the stress; she'll be fine in the morning."  
  
With that, Harry swept passed Dudley and started up the stairs to his room. Hedwig; hooting shrilly, upset and thinking that Harry had forgotten her, nipped at his fingers when he settled her cage on the desk inside his room and before let her out to fly. He didn't bother to unpack his things, because he knew that he wasn't staying here a moment longer than necessary. He instead removed his sweater and sat on the edge of his bed, and slipped the wand off his forearm. His own wand was stowed safely away in his trunk, and that had led to Harry's determination in finding out whether of not it was the wand or the wizard that the ministry traced.  
  
All the focused magic that had ever been done at number 4 Privet Drive had been done by wand. Except for Dobby, which was something he was unable to explain. Sure Harry had performed accidental magic before without any notices from the ministry but that was before he was eleven, and he was certain that the accidental magical reversal squad had been called in to rectify the situation. Even if it was to obliviate a few teachers and students that had somehow seen Harry on the playground one minute and then on top of the school the next. But then, there was focused magic as he was referring to it, when he used his wand away from school. There were the dementors last year, but that hag Umbridge had sent them after him in an attempt to discredit him and suck out his soul. Then there was 3rd year when he blew up Marge, accidental again, and would he have received notice of his impending expulsion if it hadn't been for Sirius breaking out of Azkaban to come and help him, or would it have just been the A.M.R.S. coming out and taking care of the situation? Mr. Weasley had come and used magic with his wand, Tonks, Moody, a handful of order members had all used magic here and there was no notice sent to warn him or expel him. Finally Harry's train of thought led to Ollivanders' wand shop. That's where Harry's theory for doing what he did downstairs originated, the ministry must be informed of who buys which wand and they're tagged for underage wizards. It was a bit of a stretch in theory but it was all he had, and then he thought of how the ministry would take the tags off when they reached of age. The difficult part for Harry was he kept thinking that maybe the ministry didn't remove these tags and kept watch on certain one's, and that was the last thing that Harry needed right now, another conspiracy. But it had worked, no one had seem him collect the wand that Sirius had dropped before falling through the veil, and this piece of wood was the last thing that he had of his Godfather.  
  
WHY DID I HAVE TO BE SO STUPID! HERMIONE'S RIGHT, I HAVE A 'SAVING PEOPLE THING' AND ALL I DO IS GET PEOPLE HURT IN THE PROCESS, IM A FUCKING MENACE!  
  
_No, you aren't. You know what you are, and you know what he did to you. You know what you have to do, so do it, and stop your damn whining, mourn Sirius, feel bad that you nearly got your friends killed, but they came out in the end, you came out in the end.  
_  
YEAH MINUS ONE GODFATHER, AND PLUS ONE UNFORGIVEABLE!  
  
_You piece of shite, didn't you listen to Dumbledore._  
  
DUMBLEDORE IS THE LAST PERSON I WANT TO BE LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW!  
  
_Shut up and listen._  
  
FINE.  
  
_Fix it, fix yourself, don't just wallow in your self pity, go out and make things right, you're not perfect and no one is asking you to be, you're the one now AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES, yadda yadda yadda..._  
  
You know having Hermione's voice for my conscience is a lot funnier than the real life version.  
  
_Well at least you've calmed down._  
  
Thanks, when you wish upon a star...  
  
_Geez, get some sleep in case you have to make a run for it when an owl shows up._  
  
But you're my conscience- tears rolling down his cheeks.  
  
_And you're almost sixteen, stop your fucking blubbering and be a man.  
_  
I miss him.  
  
_At least you knew him longer than your own father, that's got to count for something, right?  
_  
I'm glad my conscience is more like me, and not the real Hermione.  
  
_Well I'm still right, aren't I, and that's what counts._  
  
Ok ok, still no owls though; thats got to be a good thing.  
  
Seriously you know what you have to do, so go do it, and stop crying- it won't help anything. Find something constructive to take your emotions out on.  
  
Ok, I'm never really going to get over this am I?  
  
_Are you over your self induced guilt about Cedric?._  
  
Harry wiped the tears from his face, and stood up from his bed and moved over to his desk. He opened up his trunk and pulled out a stack of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink and set in the plan out the rest of his summer. 


	3. Emancipation

**Emancipation:**  
  
Harry Potter woke the next morning, having actually endured a restful night of sleep. No nightmares, no visions, and all without the use of a Dreamless Sleep Potion. It was 5:30 in the morning, and the sun wasn't scheduled to show for another hour and fifteen minutes. This is exactly how Harry had wanted this day to begin, as dark and quiet as possible. He dressed in a pair of Dudley's hand-me-down khaki trousers that he was swimming in and a blue t-shirt that usually fit, but for some reason it seemed to be a bit small today- maybe it was a growth spurt that he had finally settled into, and he prayed that it was. He didn't relish the idea of being the shortest boy in sixth year at Hogwarts, coming in at only five foot and seven inches. So he tossed the shirt back into the cabinet, which had been the bin for all of Dudley's unwanted articles of clothing, and pulled on a black shirt instead that fit better, but not by much. Then he strapped Sirius's wand to his right forearm, pulled the long-sleeve down to cover it, grabbed a set of robes and his fathers' invisibility cloak and set off.  
  
Once downstairs Harry started peering out the front room windows, trying to find a hint of the witch or wizards that that bastard Dumbledore had ordered follow him around for his protection. He doubted that Mundungus Fletcher would be on duty after what had happened last summer, but with Harry saying that he would stay at number 4 Privet Drive; perhaps Dumbledore had slackened a bit. Highly doubtful, but Harry thought he could hope at least. Mrs. Figg definitely wouldn't be out this time of morning patrolling discreetly since she was a squib; she was nothing more than another minder to report to the headmaster about Harry's well-being.  
  
_'Some informant she is, or did Dumbledore stumble across another one of his greater good questions when it comes to me?'_  
  
Harry had to finally realize that this wouldn't be as easy as he had hoped, there were probably at least 4 order members on duty, all of which probably had invisibility cloaks themselves, and if Mad-Eye was out there he'd see through me in a matter of seconds.  
  
_'Think, they're figuring that I'm a stupid 15 year old boy wracked with guilt and not really thinking with my head. They also think that I'm probably upstairs crying and lacking sleep, what aren't they looking for? How the hell am I going to slip past them? I can't bloody well apparate, I don't have a port-key- let alone know how to program one, hmmm. Only one option and that's over the fence in the backyard- I wonder if they're watching the neighbors gardens?'_  
  
Draping the invisibility cloak over his body, Harry strode through the kitchen and out the back door. Pausing on the porch, Harry had the thought to go back in and grab his sneak-o-scope, but the talisman what if it wasn't programmed to detect friends, just those plotting against you, and while technically that's what the order was doing they weren't trying to cause him harm. Besides the fact that he himself was sneaking around, and that would most likely set the thing off and give him away.  
  
_'Ha, all in the suit that you wear I guess.'_  
  
Walking straight through the back garden to the wooden six foot gate, Harry kept his eyes forward, feet light, and ears open. Reaching the fence hadn't been a problem so far, he was there and there weren't any signs of the order members being any the wiser.  
  
_'They might be stalking me. Listen to me, I'm turning out to be a regular paranoid like Moody and I'm only over the fence.'_  
  
He made straight for the neighbors garden gate door. He thought about going through the house with an unlocking charm, but figured that the order was probably watching the neighbors' homes for signs of ANY magic for a possible tip-off to attack. So he opened the gate door, sticking close to wall of the home and side-stepped behind some tall hedges. This was all too much like those prison break movies that he heard Dudley talking about a few years ago, and those all turned out horrible.  
  
_'AND THEY HAD A PLAN AT LEAST!'_  
  
Grinning at his... well it was stupid courage really that he was grinning at. What he was doing was incredibly insane, and thus he hoped that whatever karma he had that wasn't wasted from escaping Voldemort would come to him now and let him make it down at least a few streets, then he could summon the Knight Bus. At least it wasn't too quiet this morning, quiet was always a bad sign for Harry.  
  
_"It's too quiet... 'Wands up, you reckon?'"_  
  
He closed that thought off as soon as he even recognized the voice. He kept telling himself that he would deal with all of 'trivial' as he donned them, emotions when was at least partly done with his summer tasks.  
  
His Firebolt would have come in handy, that would have gotten him clear of the Dursley's in a matter of seconds, but would also have given him away to the Aurors even quicker- even if they weren't able to catch him. The drain system was his only sure way of making it down the streets without being noticed.  
  
Realizing that there wasn't a particular moment that he was waiting for Harry made his was along the hedge towards the walk-path, which to his unbelievable luck was where the drain was. No movements, no signs of anybody being the wiser- which disconcerted him more than he would have liked. In a series of movements that looked like he had practiced, Harry Potter fell to the concrete with his arms across his shoulders gripping his cloak, rolled to his right into the street and thanks to his lithe figure- which he planned to change over the summer, and then right into the drain. Landing with a slight splash and on one knee, he let out silent congratulations to himself. He stood, removed his invisibility cloak and stuffed it into the empty leather satchel that he was carrying on his back.  
  
Righting himself, Harry looked up at the drain entrance and couldn't believe how he just slid right through. Even with being happy about it, Harry swore that he would no longer be a small scrawny boy. The state of his body disgusted him at that moment. Thin pale arms, short skinny legs with knobby knees, and he knew that he could count his ribs just looking in the mirror. 11 years and 5 summers of malnourishment was hard to undo even at Hogwarts where he could eat as much as he wanted and whenever he wanted.  
  
Snapping back to reality, from his self assessment of his body, he started to make his way through the drain system which wasn't as complicated as he feared. Harry really didn't care where the system led him, just as long as it got him far from the Privet Drive. Fifteen minutes later, he figured that he had probably made it even further from Magnolia Crescent that he had thought he would go before he called the Knight Bus. Thinking that he still needed to be cautious about his movements, Harry slid on his fathers' cloak, and used the ledges on the concrete walls for finger holds so he could pull himself out of the sewer.  
  
_'I have definitely got to get into shape this summer,'_ he thought as he finally crawled out of the drain panting with exhaustion from such a short climb.  
  
Should have just floated myself out of there... no, no magic until I'm out away from here.  
  
Sauntering over to the walkway, Harry's hands went to his thighs. Catching his breath his finally pulled his wand and gave it a little wave.  
  
BANG!  
  
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, I'm Stan S... uhm, hello?" the confused conductor said to the thin air.  
  
"Diagon Alley. What's the fare?" Harry inquired from beneath his cloak.  
  
"Oh, of course, right then," said the conductor realizing that this customer needed to hidden for some reason. "That'll be 2 galleons then."  
  
Harry reached into the money bag attached to his belt and pulled out two identical gold coins and tossed them to the conductor, then slid by him and noticing that all the beds were empty took the nearest one.  
  
"Price went up did it? I'm in a hurry do you think we could go?" Harry said as soon as he sat down.  
  
Stan, closing the doors and yelling at the driver to head for Diagon Alley, stepped towards the bed with the depression in it.  
  
"Yeah, new safety measures on the bus, with You-Know-Who back an' all."  
  
"I see," said Harry, thinking what kind of devices had been installed onto the bus.  
  
"You're the only one this morning, should be there in a minute, or two," said Stan.  
  
"Thanks, I really appreciate this."  
  
"No problem, this is what me an' Erne do. D'ya mind if I ask what the whole cloak and dagger bit is about?" asked Stan in a slightly more than by the by curiosity.  
  
"Sorry mate, personal," said Harry trying to sound like a different person, probably something Ron would say, yeah I'll pin it on Ron, he'll get a laugh outta it, grinning again. "I suppose I can accept that, just curious, mostly Aurors have invisibility cloaks, and Aurors don't normally travel by the Knight Bus. You aint an Auror is ya?" Stan asked slightly accusingly.  
  
When Stan asked that question, Harry abruptly stood, and brushed right past Stan to stand next to the door.  
  
"Hello?" Stan asked, still looking at the dent on the bed thinking someone was still there. "Sorry, didn' mean nuthin' by it, but your business is your own," sounding rejected.  
  
The Knight Bus for a change pulled to a slow stop in front of the Leaky Cauldron, and from watching Stan operate the lever that closed the door behind him when he first got on, Harry slid it forward to open the doors and left without looking behind him or saying a salutation to Stan.  
  
At almost six in the morning Harry Potter walked to the door of the Leaky Cauldron, but before pushing the door open, he raised his wand to his face and muttered an incantation he had learned the past year during his research for a transfiguration project. Throwing off the cloak just as he stepped into the pub, he stepped and walked over to Tom the owner.  
  
"You must be Tom, right?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yeah, that's me, do I know you?" the toothless wizard asked. Tom was looking at a short pale, brown haired green eyed young man. He couldn't really see anything significant to jog his memory, just some baggy clothes underneath a set of old robes that looked like that they had been through the thick of things a time or two.  
  
"Nope, can't say that you do, but a friend of mine told me what your name was so I wouldn't feel foolish when I came and talked to you," Harry said trying not to sound too rushed.  
  
"Oh ok, who's your friend then," Tom said warily.  
  
Harry leaned close to Tom and whispered, "Harry Potter."  
  
"Oh, oh ok, well you don't look like trouble and if Mr. Potter's your friend as you say he is, what can I do for you, you look a bit young for firewhisky," asked Tom with a smile plastered across his face when he made Harry smile with that remark as well.  
  
Laughing a bit at the firewhisky and age pun Harry asked about getting a room for the night.  
  
"Well we've got a couple of vacancies, but where are your parents; you know that you shouldn't be out without them right now, what with everything going on?"  
  
Harry was beginning to get a little flustered with all the questions, he had expected a quick in, sign the registry, then head to the bank, but now he was having to come up with a story- and lying was not Harry's greatest strength.  
  
"Can I be honest with you?" Harry asked.  
  
"Sure, no reason not to be, I've heard everything there is to be heard being here behind this very counter," Tom said very pointedly.  
  
"Well, do you know about Harry's relatives, you know, the one's he has to stay with?" Harry said while feigning concern.  
  
Tom lowered his head in sadness, "Yeah I've heard the stories from your Headmaster and Hagrid. It's a shame they've got him holed up there, can't imagine why though- he's probably attached them to much to leave 'em I guess."  
  
_'What the bloody hell has Dumbledore being saying about me?'_  
  
"That's where you've got it wrong Tom." Harry said more than a little pointedly.  
  
"What do you mean?" concern growing in his eyes.  
  
"He doesn't want to be there, its all Professor Dumbledore's doing. Harry told me something about protection from," then Harry leaned in really close to whisper, "You-Know-Who."  
  
Harry leaned back and then nodded his head, when it dawned on Tom what he had just said.  
  
"So, what are you really doing here then?" realizing that this boy was here to get something for Harry Potter, Tom was willing to help out in any way he could.  
  
"He asked me to pick some things up for the next school year since he cant get out of his house and he's got to spend his whole summer with those, well lets say I've met them and they're lower than muggles, and I'm not one to judge people." Harry was saying matter-of-factly.  
  
"I see. I see indeed. Well lets get you registered and then on your way so you can help... your friend," hoping to get his young man on his so Harry would need whatever school supplies to occupy his time. Such a shame for a boy to have to be kept away from the world, and in the worst sort of way, what was Dumbledore playing at he started to wonder?  
  
Part of Harry hated that he was in a small way taking advantage of Tom, but he had work he had to do and this in no way compared to the stories he was more than likely to end up telling today.  
  
Harry signed the registry under the name Johnathon Schrom, then walked through the dining area and into the back room, tapped the bricks just like he'd remembered Hagrid doing his first trip here.  
  
However, Diagon Alley was suited perfect to his needs right now. Shops were preparing to open in a little while, and besides him there were five other people here. Dawn was a little over half an hour away and Harry needed to visit Gringotts before he went anywhere else.  
  
The white marble building was the most prominent, even dwarfing the Ministry of Magic's main office building. It reminded Harry of a picture he had once seen of the Parthenon; well the entrance did anyway, with all the massive columns. The doors to Gringotts were huge gigantic pieces of glass, with the borders etched in gold and the crest of Gringotts embossed in the center of each panel. Even the handles where plated with gold, although Harry had a suspicion that the handles were actually solid gold themselves.  
  
Through the front doors, Harry passed the security goblins, and proceeded to the nearest bored looking goblin sitting behind a desk.  
  
"Excuse me, I'd like to make a withdrawal, and I also would like some information on the exchange of gold to sterling if it is at all possible," sounding slightly timid but more confident that he thought he'd have been to the goblin.  
  
Sitting up abruptly, well with a more postured state, the goblin looked directly at Harry, taking in what was asked of him.  
  
"Very well, you have your key I presume?"  
  
"Yes, of course," Harry said while handing over the small key.  
  
The goblin ran his eye over the key, then his eye over Harry.  
  
"Is that all that you require of Gringotts today Mr. Potter?" the goblin asked while handing Harry back his key.  
  
"For now," trying to sound as imperious as the goblin Harry retorted.  
  
"Follow me Mr. Potter," the goblin said as he stepped out of his chair and floated to the floor.  
  
Glancing around the room Harry noticed that he was the only human in the building at the moment, or there were but they were employees of the bank off somewhere or other customers down visiting their vaults.  
  
Once the goblin got down from his desk and started walk Harry followed. At the mine-cart Harry turned to face his guide.  
  
"I'm sorry if this is rude, but are you the goblin that first showed Hagrid and me my vault?" Harry asked.  
  
Facing Harry, the goblins expression changed from one of serious business to one of serious interest.  
  
"Yes Mr. Potter, I was the goblin that accompanied you to your vault. It is quite odd that you would remember me, even if by my face."  
  
"Why is that," Harry asked hoping to gain an ally at the bank.  
  
"To most, that is to say wizards, a goblin is a goblin, they are no different from each-other," the goblin replied with a hint of resentment behind his words.  
  
"I've found that I'm not like most wizards, I don't share many of their views for their superiority over other beings. I have a half giant, a werewolf, a real giant and a house-elf for friends, I'm pretty much an uncle to a dragon named Norbert, there's also a Hippogriff that I'm pretty friendly with, and then the centaurs, but they're more of a fluctuating friendship, we're friends some days, and then some days... well," not realizing that he had rattled on Harry came to a stop with the centaurs.  
  
"The discriminating attitude that most wizards show towards other beings is not one that I will ever agree with, but with a fool for a minister, there doesn't seem to be much happening on the 'change public opinion' front," the hate for Fudge was clearly evident in his voice and he hadn't meant to get so carried away.  
  
"I'm sorry for my outburst," Harry said regaining his composure, or what was left of it to begin with.  
  
"It is quite alright sir, there are many who share your views, but it is not my place to say Mr. Potter."  
  
"Please, call me Harry," he said after listening to what the goblin had to say.  
  
"Very well, Harry, please step into the cart," the goblin said pointing to the passengers' seat.  
  
Once seated Harry turned to face the goblin and asked, "Well, you knew my name, and I'm supposing that it had something to do with my key, can I ask what yours is?"  
  
"Excuse me," the goblin was now staring Harry down, but with a look of complete confusion.  
  
"I'm sorry, if I'm not meant to know its ok, I was just curious, I didn't mean to insult you," Harry stammered out.  
  
"No, it's quite... odd; it has been quite some time since I've been referred to by name. My name is Griphook," Griphook with surprise lacing his tiny voice.  
  
"Well, I'm Harry, you're Griphook, let's head to the vault," Harry said with a smile on his face.  
  
As soon as Harry said let's, a feral smile crept across Griphook's face and he lowered the lever to accelerate the cart. Griphook did not flinch at the sudden acceleration down the caves corridors; Harry on the other hand, was thrown back in his seat and was letting out a scream of enjoyment.  
  
They came to a halt in front of vault 687, Griphook stepped out of the cart first, asked for the lantern, then the key, then allowed Harry access to his vault. What surprised Harry was that the original amount of gold that he had seen seemed to have multiplied, more than a dozen times over, which baffled Harry and caused his to run his fingers through his hair- which made it even more disheveled that before the cart right.  
  
"Griphook, is there any way to tell what the current balance of my account is?"  
  
"There is a podium in the back of your vault with a ledger that keeps track of all the assets within this vault, but for a complete listing of all holdings at Gringotts you'd have to ask the bank manager," being as informative as possible Griphook answered.  
  
"Griphook?" Harry asked turning around heading towards the podium.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Potter. I mean Harry."  
  
"What did you mean when you said for a complete list of my holdings?" Harry was asking trying not to give away the burning the curiosity inside him, and the rage that he felt when he already knew somehow that Dumbledore was connected.  
  
"Sir?" Griphook was saying trying to avoid the question.  
  
Harry's eyes widened as he viewed the number at the bottom, he had never even dreamed he would have so much money in his life, let alone right now in this very vault. The very vault that Harry stood in made him a millionaire, a little more than three times over, and with the thought that there were other holdings in his name somewhere close by his mind was racing with all the ideas he had come up with that were no longer fanciful dreams, but thoughts that he could turn to reality without so much as blinking to worry about money.  
  
"Griphook, if you have knowledge of anything that is being hidden here from me, please tell me, especially if it involves Albus Dumbledore. That man has caused me too much pain and grief in my life by hiding things from me, and then telling me it was for my own good or that it was not time yet for me to know," with both rage and sadness Harry was speaking to Griphook with a very low and controlled voice.  
  
Trying to decide whether or not to tell this young wizard what was being done to his account was not his place to say, but this was no ordinary young wizard, he seemed genuinely hurt by what was happening to him because of Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"Harry, your vaults are watched for certain actions by the bank here, these actions should they ever occur are then reported to the headmaster of your school- since he is your acting wizard guardian he has complete knowledge of both of your vaults here at Gringotts, however he has no knowledge of your holdings or property that were previously not known to him. He has no access to the accounts; it seems he merely wants the managers to report any substantial withdrawal or any devious behavior with your holdings."  
  
"Griphook, I want you to know that that was the most honest and complete answer that anybody save my best friends have ever given me in my life. I would ask you to please show me to the other vault that you spoke of; you mentioned two so I am assuming that this is the first. And that you inform me of any strict measures that are enforced upon my accounts, and then that you tell me if there is a way that I can completely avoid Dumbledore's gaze or sever his ties at the bank to me completely."  
  
The amount of pain that Headmaster Dumbledore inflicted on this boy must have been extreme for him to react the way that Griphook had witnessed. Harry did not yell, did not scream, did not even cry, he stated his questions firmly and clearly, but the hate and pain in his voice was apparent so much so that Griphook almost felt sorry for the Headmaster had he been in the vault.  
  
"I will take you to the Potter family vault, and I must say that although it seems that Headmaster Dumbledore has grieved you, with him being your wizard guardian there is no action that you can take until you turn of age or are somehow emancipated from him and declared a legal adult."  
  
"Thank-you," his words still laced with the loathing he felt towards Dumbledore, towards anyone who had tried to control his life, save Sirius or Professor Lupin. Harry started to fill his bag with galleons until Griphook stopped him.  
  
"Harry sir, it would not be wise to walk around Diagon alley with thousands of galleons in your satchel. When we return to the lobby I will give you a different way to access your account from outside of Gringotts."  
  
"An alternative to carrying around all these galleons, Griphook, you've got to be the most helpful person I know right now. Can you tell me who watches these accounts of mine, the goblins, are they higher ranked or do they perform some special task?"  
  
"Higher position of course, with a greater salary but they do nothing different. They manage the account of course, keep the ledger up to date, and see to your investments, they provide the best interest rates available. But they are not able to remove money from your account without express consent."  
  
As they were walking back towards the vault door Harry asked another question, "who appoints these managers, is it based on rank in the company or something else?"  
  
"For the most the managers of the accounts are assigned by the owners themselves, however, in a situation such as yours, I'm sure that you can guess assigned your managers."  
  
"I want them replaced," Harry said forcefully.  
  
"I apologize for your misinterpretation. There is no them, there is only one, and his first concern is the safety and security of your holdings."  
  
Griphook was finding this an incredibly delightful conversation, never before had a wizard engaged him to speak of finances without knowing at least something about them before hand. But Harry Potter, it seemed he knew the basics, and that was probably because of whoever brought him up, probably muggles by the look of his garments, he most likely knew of balancing a check-book and the idea of a credit card, and most assuredly sterling, but there was something about this situation that made his naivety hard to take in. He'd been hurt by more than one person in the world, and although he'd made it seem like Albus Dumbledore was responsible for more than a fair sure of that pain, Griphook did not seem interested in duping the wizard and taking what he could while he could. Harry had no idea he had a second vault, or what the amount he held in his trust account was; it seemed he did not even know that vault 713 was his trust account; he appeared to believe that was it. Had no one informed him of where he really came from, his lineage? Griphook was contemplating all of this when Harry surprised him once again with another request instead of a question.  
  
"I would like for you to take over the managing of my accounts," he said flatly, off-handedly like this was an everyday occurrence that you replaced the account managers.  
  
"Sir, I mean Harry, are you sure? This would not go unnoticed by your Headmaster?" Griphook asked warily.  
  
He couldn't believe what Harry Potter was offering to this goblin, a promotion, a raise, more respect, definitely more power at Gringotts and to a goblin that meant as much as the world.  
  
"Yes, I trust you; you were honest with me, when I'm sure that no one else would have been. I do not care if Dumbledore knows if there was a switch in account management. Although I would be grateful if you found someway of hiding my being here, and I'm sure that you could find some cunning way to make it known that I requested your appointment to my account manager by mail instead of by person, that way my headmaster will be unaware that I was here today," he said giving Griphook a friendly smile, something that no one had really seen Harry wear since before his Sirius died.  
  
"Well! Very Well sir!" Griphook said while doing an incredible job to contain his enthusiasm.  
  
They were in the cart now and heading deeper in the caves and after about five minutes of getting deeper it was nearly pitch black.  
  
While riding, Harry leaned over and asked Griphook if there was anything he needed to sign officially to mark his new appointment of account manager. Griphook had replied that the simple offer and acceptance of the position was the equal of signing a contract between magical beings. The one thought that went through his head was why was that allowed to occur then if I'm not of age and able to speak for myself? Griphook had been unable to answer, but informed him that once back in the lobby that he would look into it while Harry was being informed of his new account settings.  
  
Another five minutes and they were sweeping past vault one hundred, then 64 in the flash of an eye, and after that they came to a halt in front of vault 13. All of the vault doors around were massive, big enough for two giants to stand guard inside the span of the doors.  
  
"Griphook, is this it. This... I don't even have words, the vault has to be... wait, I don't even want to guess how big it is. How do I open it?" Harry asked with more trepidation that eagerness to see what was inside.  
  
Griphook who was standing in the on the cart, rather than the ledge next to the vault, instructed Harry to prick his finger on the raised edge, then place his palm on the circular pad next to it. Harry winced slightly when he cut his finger on the sharp edge, but then placed his palm on the circular pad next to the center of the two massive doors. He half expected a voice to start speaking inside his head, or for the pad to start glowing, instead his hand felt slightly warm and then tingly. Retracting his palm when he heard the family sound of gears turning, Harry noticed the cut where he pricked his finger had been healed.  
  
_'I'm pretty sure that whatever is behind these doors is more than worth a little cut for a few seconds.'_  
  
Once again, Harry's expectations did not lead him down the correct path. Inside the vault Harry could see very ornate pieces of furniture, expensive rugs, or what he thought looked to be expensive rugs. The left wall of the vault was completely covered in very high glossed mahogany cabinets. The right wall was mostly covered in muggle packing boxes. The back wall housed hundreds of tapestries, some muggle but for the most part wizard. He didn't see any human portraits, which he was hoping for so that he could ask them some questions. Then in a corner on the right wall, were books, there must have been hundreds, and from what Harry counted there were eight stacks taller than he was and was sure that there were stacks beyond these first ones. He was taking it all in stride, that was until he walked back to the center of the vault and noticed a very large chest with a cream envelope on top of it, which he thought was odd. Then he noticed that the envelope was addressed to him.  
  
Griphook just watched as Harry sat down on the floor cross-legged, slowly opened the envelope and begin to race through emotions. He did not think it was possible for one person to express so many different emotions from one single letter. For what was going to be his record for life, he was sure of it now, Griphook was wrong whenever he assumed anything about Harry Potter. From Griphook's perspective it did not take long for Harry to finish the letter, and it seemed like less than a second before Harry was off the floor and standing next to Griphook.  
  
"I trust that you found some solace in the letter Harry?" Griphook asked worriedly.  
  
"Some. I have found something priceless and something immensely horrifying all at the same time, but it has strengthened my resolve for what I have to do. Griphook, what is in those cabinets on the left wall?" Harry asked with a new found confidence.  
  
"Your other monetary assets are contained in those cabinets. The more prominent the vault, the more care is given to the possession within. If you were to open them, and I must tell you that you cannot, you would find that the money is more organized than in your trust account, there is more here..." Griphook was about to continue but Harry cut him off.  
  
"Sorry, but I really don't want to know what is inside those cabinets. But I am curious as to why I would not be able to open them?"  
  
"It has nothing to do with your wizard guardian; it simply has to do with the stipulations of your inheritance. The money in 713 was originally part of this account, but due to what happened to your parents, their will had a trust account set up to get you through school and through one year afterwards, and then you'd be able to rightfully claim the full extent of your inheritance."  
  
The air between the two suddenly became more business like and each others consternation took on one of both seriousness and friendship that the other could respect. Griphook who was still finding it slightly odd to be having a complete discussion and helping in the decision process, instead of simply filing paper work and asking wizards and witches to 'sign here please', was starting to come to terms more with Harry as more than a client. Harry, who only slightly understood what he was doing, was more than a little grateful for Griphook's assistance, a little wary of being taken advantage of, but the more that they talked the more trust Harry was finding himself giving away to Griphook. No more trust than necessary, but enough to learn what he needed and gain a friend in the banking world that would not take advantage of him.  
  
Harry had asked Griphook to accompany him over to the chest where he had read the letters, and then placed his palm on the center of the chest, which released the charm that had sealed it, and opened. Harry had also asked that Griphook not ask or look inside the chest, but instead asked him to help lower the books inside of it.  
  
Harry used _'wingardium leviosa'_ and Griphook was using his own goblin form of magic, which was wandless and impressing Harry greatly.  
  
"Is that something that you are born with or something that you learn?" Harry asked while watching Griphook lower the books in the trunks with his hands.  
  
"I hoped when I was younger that it was something that all goblins are borne with, but no, it is something that is taught," Griphook said a little wistfully while lowering the last of the books into the trunk.  
  
"Can it be taught to a human?" Harry was asking speculatively.  
  
"I have never heard of it being tried before," said Griphook not making the connection. "It is learned from a book, not an instructor as you are used to, and the book being written in Gobbledegook and there only being a handful of wizards alive who can speak our native tongue the idea has never been brought to pass and tested, why do you ask?" Griphook said now looking at him which caused the final connection to be made.  
  
Griphook was looking at Harry with the impression that he had grown a set of extra head to replace the one that wasn't thinking clearly.  
  
Harry, seeing that what he was asking was getting through to Griphook asked, "How does a human learn Gobbledegook?"  
  
Then there was the feral smile, the smile that Harry saw spread across Griphook's face when he had tried to throw Harry off his questions and scare him. It didn't work then, and Harry was sure that it wasn't going to work now. But what Harry didn't realize was that the feral smile was a Griphook's cunning shining through.  
  
Griphook, finished with all of the books, closed the chest, with physical force this time instead of magic, but did not look in the chest- he wasn't sure he wanted to know what was in there, walked to where Harry was standing.  
  
"Kneel." Griphook spoke.  
  
_'This doesn't look exactly like the best place to be, some of those history of magic lessons were pretty detailed with the Goblin Rebellions.'_  
  
Griphook seeing the slight apprehension said, "I will not hurt you," then he started chuckling.  
  
"What's so funny?" Harry asked with mock indignation and a slight smile.  
  
"For the most part it is the goblin that is afraid of the wizard Harry, not the other way around," still chuckling to himself, it was not everyday that one was appointed to a higher position, given a raise and then the opportunity to scare a wizard- even if the wizard isn't fully grown or trained. Goblin history being what it is still made this occurrence something he would never forget.  
  
"Oh, ok," the apprehension gone, but the curiosity growing.  
  
"Please hold out you arm."  
  
Harry did as he was told, and as he did so Griphook extended his hand and ran his index fingers sharp nail of the flesh of Harry's forearm.  
  
"This will only hurt for a second, I guarantee that," Griphook said still smiling.  
  
Then Griphook dug the nail slightly into Harry's skin, drawing a thin line of blood. To Harry's surprise, well second surprise because he did not expect Griphook to cut him, there was absolutely no pain, and that slightly scared him.  
  
"There, I said only a second, and I meant it. You did not feel any pain at all did you?" Griphook said feeling full of himself.  
  
"No, there wasn't any pain, what just happened, why did you do that?" Harry asked trying to get all of his questions out and answered at once. Seeing as how Griphook was the only one to give him straight and full answers about anything whenever he asked, he was trying not to waste his time.  
  
"Do you know what language you are speaking in Harry," Griphook asked with a huge grin across his small face.  
  
"Well I can understand you, so English..." then it donned on him almost a moment too late as always, "you didn't, did you? I mean this is great, am I really speaking Gobbledegook?" Harry was sure that his smile was reaching his eyes.  
  
"But I thought... well Ludo Bagman learned your language from a book and from talking with goblins, I thought that was the only way for a human to learn this?" Harry really didn't care how he had acquired the skill only that he was now in possession of it. Well, when it came to certain abilities that he had gained from Tom Riddle there was a never ending debate inside his head about whether or not he cared where they came from, but this argument was clearly already won for him.  
  
Still speaking in Gobbledegook, Griphook replied, "that idiot Bagman tried and because of our help and the book he found which was written as a joke mind you, and he still owes us money so forgive me if I speak ill of him, there are also the other handful of wizards and witches out there that speak out language, but that ability comes from something like what I just gave you. Considered it my gratitude for what you have done for my position, and for the trust you have placed in me. What I have just done is to have impressed a little of my knowledge onto you, I know you probably do not like to speak of him, but You-Know-Who did something along these lines, only quite by accident, if I have been informed correctly."  
  
Harry just nodded, still kneeling and completely comprehending this new language. It made sense what Griphook was talking about, Parseltongue and Gobbledegook, but Harry was curious if that was all that was imparted onto him from Griphook.  
  
"Do not worry, that is all I have passed onto you, just knowledge. There wont be any adverse effects, however, your children will all be able to speak the language fluently without having any sort of instruction."  
  
"WHAT!?"  
  
"Do not worry Harry, I must say that your given name is still a bit informal for me, would you mind if I used your more formal title, it would be easier for me?"  
  
"Uh, sure, what do you mean it will be passed onto my children, will my Parseltongue ability be transferred to them as well, I mean if I ever have children, I don't really know if I'll live that long.. I mean I'll try but," Harry was near collapsing back from shock.  
  
"Mr. Potter, oh that does sound much better. Our language is passed down in blood lines; I have no information to give on the transference of your other abilities being passed on to your children."  
  
"Oh, ok, sorry for going spare for a moment there."  
  
"Not at all Mr. Potter."  
  
_'Ok you just absorbed a new language, and with what the letter just told me I'm going to learn a few more as well, are they all going to be as easy?'_  
  
_'I wish.'_  
  
Harry walked over to the chest after getting over the shock of a new language and the idea of children, and to be honest with himself it was the prospect of having children and actually living long enough to see them that knocked Harry on his arse. He knelt in front of the chest, placed his palm back on the circle, whispered the incantation he'd read in his letter and watched as the chest shrunk to the size of a deck of exploding snap playing cards. Harry picked it up and slid it into his back pocket. "Ok, Griphook, I'd like to head back to the surface please," Harry stated.  
  
"Yes sir, I take that you understand you can remove anything you wish from this vault that is not in the form of monetary currency, gold, jewels those types of valuables?" Griphook asked.  
  
"Yes, there isn't anything inside of the chest that even remotely resembles any of those things, but those rules no longer apply to me," he said while walking towards the vault doors.  
  
"If you are certain Mr. Potter, may I inquire as to why you have that impression; there would be grave consequences if you were to walk past the vault doors with even a single knut?" Griphook asked confused.  
  
"Can we discuss this back in your office?" Harry asked now standing outside the vault and waiting for Griphook to accompany him in the cart.  
  
With the wave of his hand Griphook closed the doors to the Potter family vault, then seated himself next to Harry in the cart and started the journey back to the surface. Griphook could not begin to understand Harry's confidence that he could take anything from the vault without confidence. He was aware that Harry was nearing his sixteenth birthday, but that left a year for him to reach of age requirements in the wizarding world. It must have had something to do with the letter that Harry was reading, but it did raise Griphook's curiosity to the point where he was unable to control himself from asking- he should feel disgraced from being unable to control his desire in wanting to know about a humans thoughts or possessions, at the same time though there was something different between Harry and Griphook. Apart from giving him the knowledge of his language, Griphook still hesitated to use the word 'friend' in describing what he thought of Harry Potter.  
  
Three quarters the distance back to the lobby, Griphook leaned towards Harry and finally asked him, "why?"  
  
Harry just seemed to smile before he leaned back and said, "I'm free." 


	4. No One Knows

**No One Knows:**  
  
Before Griphook could form a response Harry told him to wait until they were in his office, and there he would explain it all.  
  
The cart finally pulled to a stop, and Harry who had never been allowed or even invited to visit an amusement park, equated the mine cart trip to a rollercoaster. That and the exhilarating feeling that had finally sunk in now that he out of the vault and back on the surface, he was ready to throw caution to the wind and remove his disguise and shout from the top of the roof that Dumbledore and Voldemort could both pucker up and kiss his skinny white arse. But Harry wasn't the average 15 year old boy seeking freedom from his parents and recognition from the world; he only wanted to get away, if only for a little while to learn everything that had been written down in the letter, and the journal, the journal was the key to his summers success.  
  
"Mr. Potter if you'd follow me please," Griphook stated more than asked.  
  
"Please don't use my name up here, people are starting to use the bank now," Harry said in a whisper.  
  
"Oh, I apologize, just down this corridor if you please," Griphook said imperiously as he led the way.  
  
The stopped in front of a oak door with black lettering written across the center stating:  
  
**- Account Manager Aloc to the Potter Family Estate**  
  
Harry thought it was a little strange for the door to just state which accounts the goblins took care of, but then he thought of the security that must be involved with a place like this, and all the curse breakers they hire, like Bill, the eldest of the Weasley son's. Harry didn't figure that much regarding security in Gringotts was ever taken lightly, but that only lightly settled Harry's mind when he saw that his family's name was written on the door directly across from the Longbottoms, and somewhere around here must be the Malfoy door.  
  
Griphook didn't even knock to Harry's surprise; he simply opened to the door to find an unusually tall goblin sitting at his desk going over what looked like a stock report. Aloc, as the door said, looked slightly alarmed to see Harry in his office, but he did not even get the chance sputter before Griphook waved a hand at the door, which changed to his name, and then Griphook turned to Aloc, told him he was fired, sworn to secrecy and could resume Griphook's old post in the lobby.  
  
Aloc didn't mumble, didn't look at either Harry of Griphook, just walked out of the office and turned down the corridor.  
  
Griphook however, was looking slightly smug.  
  
"You seem to be slightly pleased with yourself," Harry said trying to hide his smile and failing miserably at it.  
  
"Ok," Harry said, finally catching his breath for what was about to happen officially.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Potter," Griphook replied.  
  
"There should be a box around here somewhere with the initials S.B. on the top," Harry said as if he knew for a fact that there was.  
  
Griphook snapped his fingers, and the box that resembled a humidor appeared on the desk between them. Harry reached out, grasping the box he said, "Harry James Potter."  
  
The box lid popped open and there was a stack of parchment, and a small crystal. Griphook reached out to remove the crystal but Harry thankful for his seeker skills grasped Griphook's hand before he touched it.  
  
Griphook looked confused until Harry told him, "It's a portkey for me, my ticket home after this."  
  
Not completely understanding, but comprehending enough that he didn't want to be transported somewhere where he might possibly be in danger or behind wards that would not allow anyone other than Mr. Potter to pass; quickly by- passed the crystal and pulled out pieces of parchment.  
  
Griphook started reading through each document quickly, taking in all the information and then handing them over to Harry, until he reached one that made him stop cold, then peer over the piece of parchment and eye Harry queerly.  
  
Harry noticed this and asked, "Is that the one then?"  
  
The words began to pour out of Griphook as quickly as he thought them it seem, "If it is the one that declares you completely emancipated by the powers invested in your rightfully and lawfully named Godfather and Guardian upon the events of your parents death Sirius Black, then I am afraid that this is exactly the document you were waiting for me to stumble across."  
  
Harry's consternation remained unfazed at that remark, he simply reached across the desk, removed the quill that Aloc had left in the ink well and quickly signed his name on the line next to red X above Sirius name that was signed it seemed only a few weeks before his death. Then Harry passed the parchment back to Griphook and handed him the quill. The deceptive and cunning side Griphook shone through at that moment realizing what was happening and quickly signed the witness line and dated his and Harry's signature before he removed an official stamp from the desk. Harry was curious to know how Griphook knew where everything was, but shrugged off his curiosity as the red seal was imbedded on Harry's ticket to freedom from everyone who had ever tried to control his life.  
  
Harry knew what it meant for the wards at number 4 Privet Drive. He also knew that the order members that were supposed to be guarding him would see the wards go down and either suspect the worse and rush right in, and then contact Dumbledore or the other way around. He knew that his blood relatives were in somewhat danger, but he also knew that the order wouldn't let them stay that way, and they'd soon be moved to a safe house, lest Voldemort or one of his followers get to them and try to use them against him. Harry felt sick when he actually thought of one of them being captured and then tortured so that Harry would come running to save the day and get himself killed in the process... well more power to them if they thought that way.  
  
Vernon, Petunia and Dudley had seen the worst of Harry's life, not experienced it, just seen it and felt an inkling of the pain he endured, and that fact he made sure they knew. He embedded in the memories he sent them that the pain they felt was nothing to what it actually was. It wasn't right to make them feel any pain at all, but things were no longer black and white in his life. Harry Potter was running straight into the grey of life.  
  
Griphook snapped his fingers again and the parchment disappeared to be filed in the ministry's records office. Harry sighed, and then snorted softly, something he had waited so long for, had come at the price of his godfather being killed, and his friends getting hurt, and thank god they were all healed with no lasting side-effects, he had been worried about Ron for a bit after the brains latched onto him, but he had been told by the Healers than Ron was fine and would suffer no positive or negative side-effects, save the second guessing in the future when it came to following Harry- another memory to laugh at.  
  
The parchment was being placed back into the box, and then closed and handed back to Harry, when a knock came at the door.  
  
"Come in," Griphook announced.  
  
A goblin came in and placed a black file on top of Griphook's desk, them mumbled something very derogative toward Griphook about his unbelievable ability to kiss a wizards ass and get a higher position.  
  
"Excuse me," Harry said in what must have passed for perfect Gobbledegook, "Griphook earned this position with trust, something that the previous holder of his office I could not bring myself to give because of certain ties, I would appreciate it if you would not insult my account manager in my presence or at any other time."  
  
"I'm... I'm sorry sir," and then the goblin hurriedly ran out of the office.  
  
"Thank-you Mr. Potter, but I am quite capable of handling myself when it comes to my ilk," Griphook was grateful for what Harry had done but it was not necessary and he needed to get that across to Mr. Potter.  
  
"I apologize. I just reacted, I don't care for anyone to insult my friends," Harry said scowling at the closed door.  
  
_'Friend,'_ Griphook thought, well that seals it.  
  
"Harry," Griphook said gaining Harry's attention at using his first name.  
  
"Yes?" Harry asked.  
  
Griphook snapped his fingers and a large battered leather bound book was conjured. Then he floated it over to Harry's hands where they both locked eyes.  
  
"I trust I have your confidence in keeping this a secret?" Griphook asked.  
  
"No one will know." Harry replied with sincerity.  
  
Harry retrieved the chest from his back pocket, enlarged it and placed the book inside, then said the charm to return the chest back so he could return it to his back pocket.  
  
While Harry was doing that, Griphook opened the black folder to make sure that everything was in order.  
  
"Mr. Potter," he said while sliding the open folder over to Harry. "These are yours now. This silver box," Griphook said indicating the small silver container that looked bigger than a box of squares, but with no design save for the ornate G in middle, "this box after we are finished will be imprinted to you and only to you unless you come back and have another keyed in, I will ask you now to place your key against the Gringotts seal."  
  
Harry did as he was asked, and the key quickly dissolved into the silver box, and there was now a gold vine pattern around the G.  
  
"This is now linked directly to your trust account here. Only your hand can remove money, simply speak the amount of galleons of currency that you need, slide the top to the side as if you were to be retrieving a fag, and the money will slide out. If you require muggle money, or sterling, say the amount you need in pounds while holding the case and slide the lid as far to the side as it will allow, muggles will simply think this is an expensive money clip of some sort- that's the way its been enchanted. Enchanted not charmed, no one save an employee of Gringotts should be able to tamper with this, so if you suspect it at all, tap the seal with your wand and state your name and account manager which will then send it straight here. Try to think of it as an intermediate portkey."  
  
Harry just nodded, taking in what Griphook was telling him, he was ecstatic to have access to his account with having to physically visit his vault.  
  
"Next, this is your muggle identification card. It has a simple charm on it for muggles not question it, since your age has been changed to make you appear a year older. You also have the advantage with this to seek out a mode of muggle transportation should you choose. However, it is recommended that you at least read about the mode of transportation and attend one of their safety courses, you don't have to if you feel confident enough with your own abilities, I am simply saying it is the recommended path. Also your Gringotts credit card, in the event that you are without your money case, you can use this, again this is enchanted to be used only by you and can be used in both muggle and wizarding shopping centers. The credit card should come in use when you need to buy something of extreme expense and don't want to show the community a large bulk of gold or sterling. Also I've taken the liberty to acquire a wallet for you," Griphook said in what has to surely be his every day business tone. Griphook took the driver's license and credit card and placed them in the wallet, then took a few other pieces of paper and slid them into the wallet as well.  
  
"Griphook, what are those other pieces of paper?" Harry asked with more than a little curiosity.  
  
"Oh of course Mr. Potter... there is a personal copy of your birth certificate, and your fake insurance cards that will transport you to St. Mungo's if you are in need of medical assistance. And I must say that these have been needed for a very long time in our world.  
  
"Thank-you Griphook."  
  
"It has been an honour Harry."  
  
Harry stood and placed the money box in his trouser pocket and the wallet in the back pocket not occupied by the chest. Then he reached for the wooden box on the desk that Sirius had left him and placed it in his satchel.  
  
"Everything about the properties I own is in here, correct?" Harry asked more than ready to be done in the bank.  
  
"Of course, all the properties it seems, have been maintained and a few have enormous protective wards on them as well according to the documents your Godfather left you," Griphook stated.  
  
Griphook stepped down from his chair and then walked to the door to hold it open for Harry. Harry nodded to Griphook understanding that nothing else was needed to be said. Then walked back through the lobby and out the main doors back into Diagon Alley.  
  
Walking down Diagon Alley at nine in the morning was a very different experience for Harry this time. He knew he was free, but as soon as he passed the doors to Gringotts he knew that he could no longer put off what he considered to be his destiny. He needed to train, and no one was going to get in the way of him doing what he wanted anymore. No one would ever expect from Harry what he was about to undergo.  
  
He was back in the Leaky Cauldron, and looking for Tom when he spotted Mr. Weasley meeting with his twin sons Fred and George, the heroes of last year.  
  
_'I'm going to give hero a really bad fucking title by the time I'm through,'_ Harry thought.  
  
Harry still in disguise wasn't recognized by any of the Weasley's and went to talk to Tom.  
  
"Tom," Harry said.  
  
"Ah, Mr. Schrom, done already, why it's only a spot past nine?"  
  
"Turns out it was easier to get things that I thought, and they're already on their way as we speak, so I won't be needing that room after all."  
  
"Well, that's alright, tell Harry I said hello, and not to let those muggles get 'em down."  
  
"Will do."  
  
At the mention of Harry, each of the three Weasley's perked up and started looking around, only to see a brown haired boy talking to Tom the barkeep.  
  
"Must've been talking about some other Harry," Fred said.  
  
"Must've, don't think anyone can miss Harry," George replied.  
  
Then they went back to talking to their father about their joke shop.  
  
Harry, not even bothering with the invisibility cloak anymore, signaled the Knight Bus, and a second later...  
  
BANG!  
  
_'I'm never going to get used to that.'_  
  
Before Stan could even get a word out Harry said, "Hello Stan, number 4 Privet Drive," then placed two galleons in Stan's hands and stepped onto the bus.  
  
"Oh... ok," Stan said hesitantly, "Erne, Four Privet Drive!"  
  
Harry didn't thank of look at Stan, just stood next to one of the empty beds and held the guard rail to brace himself.  
  
"Uhm...," Stan started to say, but Harry cut him off.  
  
"Don't ask," Harry stated firmly.  
  
Stan's face hardened at that remark. He wasn't hurt by the remark, just curious.  
  
BANG!  
  
"Four Privet Drive," Stan said as the bus came to a halt.  
  
Harry pulled Sirius's wand from his sleeve, pointed it at this face, and muttered the reverse transfiguration spell, and felt his face return to normal.  
  
"Harry... Harry Potter!" Stan nearly shouted.  
  
Harry ignored him and got off the bus, and nearly made it to the door before someone under their own invisibility cloak placed a hand on his shoulder. Not a rough hand but forceful in its own right- Harry could feel the potential strength behind this slight gesture.  
  
"Harry, where have you been, it's not safe here, somehow the wards came down, and we have orders to take you to headquarters!" the female voice said quickly.  
  
"Tonks?" Harry asked without turning away from the door.  
  
"Yeah, go get your trunk, Hedwig can fly and meet you there, we need to get out of here, FAST, if the wards are down it wont be long before the Death Eaters find out!"  
  
"Sorry Tonks." Harry said, but not really emphasizing what he was sorry for, he wasn't really sorry for taking the wards down and putting people in danger, but he was slightly sorry that she had to be there.  
  
"It's alright, just get your trunk!"  
  
Harry opened the door to an empty house, which he'd expected, and ran up the stairs to his room threw open Hedwig's cage.  
  
"You'll know where to find me girl, I'll make sure you can get in," he said as the owl looked at him perplexed then flew out the window.  
  
Harry leaned out the window, "Tonks! Apparate to Headquarters I've got a portkey, go!"  
  
CRACK!

Tonks was standing in Harry's tiny bedroom.  
  
"What do you mean you've got a portkey, and I'm not going anywhere until I've seen that you've gone first!" she was getting frustrated at this point. She knew they were vulnerable, but she also knew that the Dursley's had been evacuated in under half an hour after the wards came down, albeit begrudgingly, but they left, and now Harry shows up on the Knight Bus, tells her to apparate to headquarters ahead of him because he has a portkey, she may clumsy but she knew something was up with Harry, but she thought she knew him better than he knew her, she didn't know he was playing her. He knew that she would watch him portkey out and then apparate to headquarters without even thinking of taking the portkey herself, so Harry played her, not cruelly, but enough to piss her off when she got to headquarters.  
  
"Fine, take the portkey, I'll watch, you know I'm not leaving here without you, Dumbledore would kill me!"  
  
Harry smirked at that statement, he was getting good at controlling his feelings, because right now he felt guilt, and resentment, neither of which showed on him. He reached into his satchel and pull out the wood box opened the lid, pulled out the portkey, then put the box back into his satchel, all under the watchful eye of Tonks, grabbed his trunk then winked at Tonks.  
  
Tonks stepped back for a moment, not understanding what the wink was meant for, but her guard was up instantly.  
  
"LILY!" Harry said loudly, clutching the portkey in one hand, and his trunk in the other. But before he felt the pull behind his navel he had just enough time to give Tonks a message to Dumbledore.  
  
"Tell Dumbledore to kiss my arse, would you Tonks!" Harry shouted, and then he was gone.  
  
Tonks just stood there for a moment. Harry took the portkey and disappeared, presumably to headquarters at 12 Grimmauld Place, but why the shot at Dumbledore? "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL JUST HAPPENED!" Tonks screamed, and then apparated.  
  
Tonks landed in the living room at 12 Grimmauld Place in the middle of a half a dozen Aurors/order members all discussing the events of this morning. It wasn't even ten a.m. and somehow Harry had managed to escape the watch of three order members, go somewhere on the Knight Bus, then the blood ward that had been set up around Harry's relatives home had come crashing down, sending everyone into a bit of a frenzy, wondering what happened to Harry, and that's where they learned that Harry wasn't even there. But Tonks had seen him the night before during her watch, then he returns on the night bus, as calm as can be, sends his owl on her way shouts for Tonks to apparate here already because he has a portkey, she pops up into his room which shouldn't be possible, except the DAMN wards are down, he puts some parchment from one box into his trunk, grabs the crystal, says his mums name, and makes a snide request about telling Dumbledore to kiss his arse, and then he's gone.  
  
Again she found herself thinking, _'WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAPPENED!'_  
  
All of the order members in the room were discussing this mornings events, amongst themselves, then Tonks jumped into the conversation and told them what had happened when he returned to Privet Drive, leaving out the bit about Dumbledore, until he was there, and that was going to be one hell of a thing to say to the one wizard that all others were afraid of, even You- Know-Who.

* * *

Remus Lupin had just apparated into the living room amongst all the debate and speculation about what had happened, looking like a lorry had smashed into him and kept right on motoring. The last moon had been a week ago, so he shouldn't look or feel as bad as he did. The sense of loss however, that Remus felt over the loss of his last friends' was almost too great a weight to bear. The only reason he hadn't loaded a pistol with silver bullets and joined his friends was because of Harry. James died before Harry could even know his father, Sirius was locked up not more than a week after James was murdered, and he himself had run away for the better part of 12 years. They had all failed Harry. Harry wouldn't think that, but Remus did; and it plagued him every moment of every day. The moment he would take his mind of a mission Dumbledore sent him on, he'd be wracked by guilt; and a grown man who was also a werewolf no less would break down into sobbing fits. The constant black circles around his eyes made it look like Remus had undergone his transformation every night of the week. He didn't eat, didn't sleep, he worked; and the job he wanted most Dumbledore wouldn't give him.  
  
_'DAMN DUMBLEDORE!'_ he swore inside his head.  
  
Now Remus had just received a firecall saying Harry evaded three order members, disappeared, the bloodwards on his home had come down, then Harry had shown back up on the Knight Bus and used a portkey to disappear to Merlin knows where. He hadn't failed Harry this time; he wasn't even given the chance to. Dumbledore was responsible for this and there wasn't a damn thing Remus could do about it; except for scream and rant. Neither of those possibilities would do any good but the other option of beating the Headmaster to death with his bare hands wasn't any more plausible. Where would the order be then without its leader? There would be no one left to lead. The wizard that the world both feared and respected Albus Dumbledore would be gone. There would be no light at the end of the second dark tunnel they'd gone down in the past three decades.  
  
Remus sank into one of the leather high back wing chairs, causing memories of a semi-free Sirius sitting in this chair, waiting on news of how Harry was doing in school and his latest run in with Snape.  
  
_'SNAPE,'_ he muttered, as if the name itself was a curse.  
  
That bastard would pay for his part in this.  
  
_'Integral part of the order my arse!'_  
  
Remus needed to let out his frustration and Snape was the nearest thing to an enemy he could find. Hell, Snape was the enemy. His hesitation at not believing Harry cost Sirius his life, and nearly all those kids that showed up at the Ministry. Snape would pay, not with his life; he would suffer, more than Harry had suffered his entire abusive life. More than Remus had suffered his entire abused disease ridden life. More mental torment than twelve years in Azkaban had affected Sirius. Snape would suffer and suffer greatly if Remus had any part, but Harry, what was Harry doing? Where was he, and how like his father was he turning out to be? No one in the order really knew the intensity to which James had devoted to the order and finding Death Eaters. No one save Remus and Sirius, and Remus knew that Sirius knew more than he did. James wouldn't even tell Lily- although she had suspected on more than one occasion, but had accepted James explanation for his sudden disappearances. She loved him and he loved her more than life. The things he did for her that no one would know, they secured what they had together.  
  
Remus nearly slipped into one of his states before a hand gripped his shoulder. He jerked away suddenly, but realized the feminine but powerful touch and leaned into.  
  
"Hello, Remus," Tonks said, she had resumed her normal appearance, what she looked like without all the changes she made with her metamorphmagus abilities.  
  
Remus could only think of how beautiful she looked without all her changes, her and Harry, the only things on his mind that kept the guilt that threatened to swallow him whole at bay.  
  
"I have to tell you something about what Harry did before he disappeared with the portkey, I should only be saying this to Harry, but you're, well you're..." she wasn't able to get out the title that she wanted to say.  
  
Sighing heavily and fighting sleep from overtaking him he motioned for her to take chair opposite him then asked, "What happened?"  
  
"Everything up until his portkeyed out you know already. But what none of the others know, and they won't, unless Dumbledore seems fit to tell them. Is that Harry worked me," she said sounded dejected, and then put her head in her hands.  
  
"What are you talking about Tonks?" asked Remus a little more seriously involved in the conversation.  
  
"He showed up all calm and collected, like he knew everything had happened already, like he had planned it. Then he was up in his room, and nothing was unpacked, his trunk was on the foot of his bed which looked like it hadn't been slept in, he'd already let Hedwig go, and there was no way he could clean up his room that quickly without a wand. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a wooden box..." she tried to keep going but Remus cut her off.  
  
"This box... did it look like a humidor, you know for muggle cigars?" Remus asked with a glint in his eye and a hopeful start to a smirk coming across his face. His mind was already working on the possibilities of what Sirius had done posthumously. And as much as Remus wanted to yell at him for what he knew Sirius might have done, he was sure that if the answer had been yes he was about to fall to the floor in hysterical laughter, and then blind fury would be sure to follow.  
  
"Yes, it did, why?" she asked still looking at the floor with her head in her hands. She felt like the wizarding worlds worst Auror. Played by a 15 year old boy. Harry Potter sure, but still a 15 year old boy had figured out how her mind works and used it to his advantage.  
  
Remus snapped, he rolled out of the chair and onto the old rubbed out carpet howling in laughter; it only lasted about 15 seconds before Tonks stood and started kicking him viciously in the ribs.  
  
"You think this is FUCKING funny!? I lost Harry BLOODY Potter!" she was screaming at him and drawing the attention of all the other order members in the room.  
  
Remus grabbed the foot that was trying to incapacitate his ability to breathe and pushed it back. Even with his werewolf strength behind him, Tonks kicking him in the ribs wasn't the breeze of wind he half expected from her, even if she was an Auror. Now he knew better, definitely don't piss Nymphadora Tonks off.  
  
_'Sirius, do you really understand what you've done? And how the hell did Harry get to Gringotts and talk them into giving him his fugitive Godfathers last will and testament?'_  
  
These were questions that needed immediate answering, and having a room full of people staring at you while an Auror was beating you was not helping matters.  
  
Remus picked himself up off the floor, readjusted his duster- which he preferred to robes, then his shirt and trousers. Everything about Remus Lupin looked worn, even if he and his wardrobe hadn't seen that many years. All aspects about Remus looked like he'd gone through the ringer more than a few times, but he still maintained his regal looking face spare a few scars.  
  
"Tonks listen," Remus said gasping for air and waving the order members off.  
  
They did so only after getting one last look at the werewolf succumbing to the small female Auror.  
  
"WHAT!" she yelled, causing looks again, "You know they're going to kick me out of the order for this, don't you?"  
  
"Hold on. No, you aren't going to get kicked out of the order for Sirius's stupidity over his last hoorah and gift to Harry, and Harry's resourcefulness to find it," Remus stated, now fully composed.  
  
Tonks, her anger slightly abating could see the smile on Remus' face and that helped somewhat to take the edge off, then it hit her, "What are you talking about Remus, what did Sirius do? I didn't know that you could prank someone from beyond the veil!"  
  
As soon as she said it she regretted it. She didn't need to be responsible for adding to anyone else's pain today. But Remus' smile didn't falter, and even more of the darker circles were being lifted.  
  
"Sirius was a very talented and well prepared man... I'll tell you that much, and that much should let you know that Sirius wouldn't let death get in the way of him and Harry. If it meant giving Harry a chance at freedom."  
  
"What are you talking about?" she asked now completely confused but no longer angry at herself for being played by one boy. Tonks knew now that the boy had help, she still knew that Harry was more than seven eighths responsible for using her against herself.  
  
"Let's wait for _**him**_ shall we?" Remus asked while trying to get her to sit back down.  
  
"Him who, are you talking about Harry or Dumbledore?" she asked not understanding why he wasn't using either of their names.  
  
"Harry may be young, but he isn't stupid, he'll probably never come back here. In fact we're lucky that he hasn't informed Gringotts of this location and asked them to seize the house and liquidate it into his estate... although I'm not sure that he's turned that ruthless yet," Remus said with an edge to his voice. He knew damned well where Harry most likely was and what was about to happen to him, and he felt sorry for him. After it was all done; well he'd have to wait and see how much like James, Harry really was.  
  
"Ok, I understand that Harry was at Gringotts this morning and that somehow he received his inheritance from Sirius, but shouldn't Dumbledore have been there, he's Harry's wizard guardian?" Tonks was trying to piece together everything that Remus and the order had given to her in supplement to her own knowledge and so far she had only come up with the corner piece.  
  
"Neither Harry nor I are on very... good, terms, with the Headmaster right now," Remus was now growling at the mention of Dumbledore.  
  
"Easy," Tonks quickly replied trying to calm him down.  
  
_'Damn he's touchy about the old man,'_ she thought.  
  
"Sorry, let's just wait for the _**old man**_ to show up and then more will be explained," Remus stated.  
  
Tonks realized that this wasn't just a suggestion.

* * *

Harry landed in the entryway of the manor. He set his trunk down with Hedwig's cage on top of it and started looking around for the room that the letter had told him about. The first floor didn't turn up anything, so Harry ascended the stairs, not bothering to take in the view that the landing afforded him of the front garden and the entryway. From his search of the first floor, the manor was bigger than Sirius' home and extremely more livable, there didn't seem to of darkness about this place, his home, or one of many of his homes, but this was his primary home, this was where he was born.  
  
He was exploring all of the rooms in the west wing of the house, and just about to turn back towards the landing and explore the east wing when he heard voices. Familiar voices that he should not have been able to hear were talking animatedly behind the door that he must have missed, unless it was a replica of the Room of Requirement, but Harry doubted that. The letter had said that there would be a surprise he wouldn't have imagined, so he gripped the handle to the door tentatively and stepped inside.  
  
The room was easily the size of Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, but it was completely empty or nearly, the floor was made of wood, but Harry had the impression from walking on it that it was padded. What looked like broom racks were draped with black cloth, and there looked to be about 3 racks with slots for 5 brooms a piece. Then there was the table that materialized next to the closest draped rack, but the table was covered as well, only the impressions of whatever was underneath showed that there was anything at all. It seemed to Harry that this was a training hall, for what he didn't exactly know, but he had the feeling that he was about to find out. The voices though, the voices that Harry had heard and drawn him into this room had ceased. Then he heard whispers, straining to hear what they were saying of where they were coming from Harry began to wander along the walls of the room, and then when he got to the middle of the pitch sized room, he looked up and nearly passed out  
  
It was just like him to do this but he was still having trouble getting his mind around it, or was he.  
  
_'Maybe you've really gone 'round the bend this time.'_  
  
"Hello Harry," Sirius said beaming from his portrait above.  
  
"God Sirius, I'm sorry Sirius, I'm so sorry," Harry had fallen to his knees, his head in his hands the damn he'd built had finally burst, and every emotion that Harry had kept bottled up about Sirius' death rushed out of him. He wasn't crying for some reason, his body just couldn't handle the torrent of what was coming out of him. His breathing was uneven, like he was crying and sputtering 'I'm sorry' over and over to the floor; he couldn't even bring himself to apologize to the face of portrait of his Godfather. Stupidity, guilt, sorrow, shame, hate and fear were all slowly draining out of him.  
  
"Harry, look at me," Sirius' portrait said once he was sure that Harry had regained enough control to at least speak coherently.  
  
Harry sat back on his ankles and looked up at Sirius, a definitely younger Sirius by the looks of him; he appeared as though all the years in Azkaban had been wiped aside by whomever the artist was skilled brush.  
  
"How did you get here?" Harry asked still mastering his breathing.  
  
"Simple, always plan ahead, after I was locked up in that house of mine, by none other than HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS, SUPREME MUGWUMP AND HEAD OF THE WIZENGAMOT or whatever the hell his title is these days, I pretty much figured that it was only a matter of time before I did something incredibly NOBLE AND BRAVE..."  
  
At the mention of Sirius being noble and brave there was a slight coughing coming from the side of the portrait, from behind a rock, it sounded like someone was trying to control their laughter.  
  
"Well before I was so rudely interrupted..."  
  
"Uhm Sirius, who interrupted you?" Harry asked.  
  
"Will everyone stop interrupting me please? Well, like I said, NOBLE AND BRAVE AND EXTREMELY COURAGEOUS, I made plans just in case, and it looks like those plans unfortunately came to fruition. I had the portrait with a picture of a younger and happier me then sure I wouldn't be activated until I passed and then I'd be able to see dear 'ol Great Great Great Grandpa Phineas so he could tell me how stupid I was and how I died. And let's just say that he made it sound like it wasn't nearly as great a death as I say it is. Its not everyday you get to rush off to save your Godson- who thinks he's saving you, by the way Harry, thanks for the sentiment..." Harry just stared at the floor when Sirius told him that.  
  
"... so I dashed off, took down a couple of death eaters and dueled with my lovely cousin Bella, it's a pity that she nailed me, but at least I was out of that damn house, and now the real me gets to be with James and Lily wherever we are, and I get to be here with, well we'll get to that in a moment..."  
  
Looking up from the floor Harry was starting to get a little confused, but at least hearing Sirius talk about his own death was quickly absolving the last of the guilt that Harry was feeling. He was sure that'd always carry around the sentiment of guilt, but he knew, he didn't know how, he knew that he would never feel it, like it was there in the back of his mind. He could see it and touch, but it would be separate from his consciousness and never have an effect on him again- comforting and crazy, that's what he thought of when he thought of never feeling a horrible thing again.  
  
"So it seems that you made it to Gringotts, and on your second day home from school no less, how'd you manage that?" Sirius was asking Harry with beaming pride.  
  
"Pushed everything I was feeling aside, I had your wand, nicked it from the Ministry when you... well when I got you killed." Harry said.  
  
"Stop, you'll not be taking my glory away from me. I died to save and protect you, not the other way around and changed up a bit," Sirius was saying grinning ear to ear.  
  
Harry was starting to feel like his entire being was hardening from being in this place.  
  
_'What's happening to me?'_  
  
"Harry, do you understand why you're here?" Sirius asked pointedly.  
  
Finally standing on his own two feet, Harry stared straight at the portrait and spoke, "To train."  
  
"Harry, you must understand that this will be most unlike anything you would have expected for training," Sirius replied.  
  
"I don't understand, from the letter I was expected to receive magical training like my father received, and I still don't understand what that meant, what did my father do different from other wizards in his training, was there an apprenticeship of some sort?" Harry asked trying not to show his confusion.  
  
"Please summon those racks and tables over here, and do not worry about your use of magic, you are more than amply concealed here at the manor." Having not unpacked his own wand from his trunk, Harry removed Sirius' wand from his sleeve and summoned the racks and tables over to him.  
  
"Now, please remove cover sheets," Sirius said without emotion.  
  
Harry gripped the sheet that covered one of the broom racks and pulled it aside swiftly, his confusion only built when he saw that the racks did not house brooms of any sort, but what looked to be long rifles, and the table once uncovered, held smaller versions, pistols of some sort he guessed. He wouldn't have had a clue as to what any of these objects were if it hadn't been for last summer when he took to watching television in the Dursley's living room underneath his invisibility cloak, in hopes of catching any kind of news about Death Eater attacks. There had been a news broadcast where muggle police were barging into a room where a man held one of these long rifles, and tried pointing it at the police before he was subdued and the broadcast ceased. That had been the third time that Harry had even seen anything on television in length. Then there was a nagging sensation in the back of his mind, the question he wanted to ask, and the answer he wasn't sure that he wanted, but needed to know.  
  
"Sirius," Harry started to ask, "When you say training like my father, I know he was a member of the order, but what did he do for the order?"  
  
"I think... that you should ask him yourself Harry," Sirius stated while moving to the side of the large portrait.  
  
"What? What are you talking about?" Harry asked completely bewildered by Sirius' last statement.  
  
While Harry was finishing his question a figure from the background of the portrait stood, turned to face Harry, and slowly walked to the foreground. The figure looked directly at a now pale Harry and spoke, "Hello Harry, it's good to finally see you."  
  
Harry stared at what he thought was his doppelganger; although a much better built version of himself, and taller, but nearly an exact copy of himself. It struck Harry that the only time he had ever felt this way about seeing his father was when he had saved himself and Sirius from the Dementors. But this wasn't Harry. The eyes were different, the face less pointed, a little more square jaw, Harry was starting to get envious of this person who looked like him, or was it that Harry was the imperfect copy of the portrait. Then the thought struck him, like a lightning bolt epiphany.  
  
"Da'?" Harry asked, struggling for a monosyllabic question.  
  
The new figure just beamed with pride, and smiled at Harry as he answered, "Yes."  
  
Harry abruptly fell back onto his haunches and stared at the painting of his father James Potter.  
  
The portrait of a James Potter in his early twenties started to speak when he realized that Harry was having trouble allowing this new discovery to take hold.  
  
"Harry, I think explanations are in order first. Well, an apology and then an explanation. I'm truly sorry that I haven't been there for you. You have to believe me that I never expected things to turn out this way. When Sirius' arrived this past week and explained to me what happened to your mother and I and what happened after we passed... well the blame lies with me and Dumbledore," James said remaining perfectly stoic.  
  
"WHAT!?" Harry was now furious at the mere mention of Dumbledore's involvement and completely ignoring his fathers own admittance.  
  
Harry knew that Dumbledore was responsible for placing his family under the fidelius charm, and that his father and Sirius conspired and made Peter the secret keeper; in effect making Sirius bait. So what was his father trying to tell him? Was there something else that the old man was keeping from, some shred of information that might have added to the puzzle that Harry's life felt?  
  
"CALM YOURSELF!" James yelled at Harry, "You will learn to keep yourself collected at all times!"  
  
"Y-Yes sir," Harry said still not believing that the portrait of his father had just yelled at him.  
  
The portrait of James resumed his original stoic features and continued while looking directly at an even more confused Harry, "this manor is under the fidelius charm and with you being the only living person to have read the letter left to you; you are your own secret keeper. Technically you are safer here than any other place you could go. Lily, you and I, would have been better off here than under Dumbledore's misguided protection at the time. We were informed that we had been specifically targeted by Voldemort after our last... altercation, and Albus it seems, from what Sirius has told me, convinced your mother that we should go into hiding."  
  
"I knew I had been targeted by Voldemort, but for a different reason it seems. Your mother and I had no information regarding a certain prophecy, so I agreed to Lily's wishes. I had also hoped with doing this that we would be able to draw out the informant from inside the order and lead Voldemort into the open. However, as I said before Albus neglected to inform us of a certain prophecy," James said with his arms across his chest and turning his head to face a steadfast Sirius.  
  
Harry was getting the feel for the aristocracy that he had been told his father had been raised with, both from the way he spoke and the powerful way that he held himself.  
  
"Harry, do you know the story of Godric Gryffindor? Who he was before he founded Hogwarts?" James asked.  
  
"Yes. He was a wizard for hire, of sorts, from what I've read," Harry answered, still confused but feeling slightly better that he had a small answer to give his father.  
  
_'My father, look at him, I may not be my father, but that's the man I'm supposed to be like.'_  
  
"Godric Gryffindor, Harry, was a wizard mercenary before he founded Hogwarts."  
  
"He was what?" Harry asked, trying to look at serious as his father's portrait.  
  
"A wizard mercenary, he was hired to track down certain wizards and the occasional witch and deal with them in the manner that he was hired to do."  
  
"He killed people for money?" Harry was now staring at Sirius instead of his father, trying to see what Sirius was thinking about all of this, did he know?  
  
_'Of course he had to know.'_  
  
"No, he did not kill for money, although he did collect from the deceased. Godric was the most powerful wizard of his age, and the greatest- he did not tolerate evil, and that, is where most of the stories you've probably read originate. Never in any history record, or any book for that matter will there be a written account of what Godric Gryffindor truly did."  
  
"Am I, are we related to the Gryffindor line?" Harry asked tentatively.  
  
"No, one of our ancestors apprenticed under him, and then before Godric's original master passed he finished his apprenticeship under that man as well. He had the benefit of being trained by the greatest wizard of the age and the man who had trained him to be so. There is no Gryffindor in your blood. Sirius has told me that you were once considered the Heir of Salazar Slytherin. You can rest assured that you are neither Slytherin's heir nor Gryffindor's. You are the heir to the Potter Family line, and as such you bear the responsibility of what we are. Harry, you can already feel it now, can't you?"  
  
"Yes. I feel something, but what does this mean, what is happening to me?"  
  
"Do not fear Harry, this is a gift to those of our line, you'll always have the pains you carry with you, but this gift locks them away in a mental pensieve. Where if you wish, and you will; can reflect and react as you see fit. No good will come from openly shouldering them when you need to deal with certain situations that require complete focus."  
  
"I see." Harry said simply.  
  
Harry went over the given information inside his head again.  
  
"Harry if you would please ask the room to cast a projection of me, I would be grateful," James stated.  
  
Again not completely understanding what was happening he made the request for the projection of his father's portrait. An instant later a version of his father was standing next to him. More solid than the form of a ghost, but still not complete, James wrapped his arms around his son tightly. Harry wrapped his arms around his father's torso, and sank into the hug, this is what he had wished for, for eleven years he wished that his father would come to him and embrace him, help him, teach him and love him. Now he had a version of that, not the real James Potter, but Harry was not going to let a chance with his father pass him.  
  
"I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you Harry," James said with a voice full of regret.  
  
Harry still clinging to his father asked him, "I thought we didn't have these emotions anymore?"  
  
The projection of James snorted lightly, "You still need to harness it, and you need to know that you control it, not the other way around. You can turn it on and off as you wish."  
  
Harry reluctantly let the projection of his father go and stepped back and waited for was going to be said next.  
  
"First, you need to train your body, I run this house Harry, I can travel anywhere inside of it, but not out, I will wake you each morning to begin your circuit. You're of my blood and I EXPECT NOTHING BUT THE BEST FROM YOU! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD!?"  
  
Harry understood more of what was being asked of him. He reached into his mind hoping to find the gift his family had given him and embrace it, but the search only gave him mild results. Then looking up into his father's eyes, he nodded his agreement.  
  
"Good. Running in the morning, then you'll be introduced to weight training, get cleaned up afterwards, personal study in the library for 5 hours, where you are to learn the theory and then demonstrate what you have learned for the day. Then you will have personal study with me, where you will be instructed in various forms of weapons, fighting techniques and strategy. Afterwards you will receive instruction in Occlumency from Silus- another member of our family and his portrait can be found on the third floor west wing fifth door on the right. You will then have an hour to yourself to collect your thoughts and do what you wish in the manor. Your curfew will be enforced! If you are caught out of your bedchamber or awake in your bed chamber past 10:15 p.m. Tory will administer a sleeping charm, you'll be woken the next morning by me feeling like you didn't get a inkling of sleep, AND that is something you do not want to experience during you training, do you understand?" James dictated while staring into Harry's bright green eyes.  
  
"I understand." It was all Harry could think to answer with. He simply nodded again to comply with his father's wishes. This was his legacy, what he was meant to do and to be honest with himself; the feeling of finally knowing was not good one.  
  
"Excellent, we will begin tomorrow morning, take the chest you brought with you and restock the library, then find Tory and get yourself something to eat. Besides that the rest of the day is yours to explore or come back and talk at length with me about anything, save what will happen to you in the future under my tutelage."  
  
Harry had missed the longing look that James had given him when telling him what he could do with his day when saying he could come back and talk with him.  
  
"Thank-you, sir," Harry was finding it slightly difficult to refer to this man as dad when he was in his presence and being educated. He was finding himself staring at his shoes rather than look him in the eye.  
  
The projection of James reached a hand out to Harry and placed it on his shoulder, he simply nodded to Harry, and when Harry returned the gesture they both smiled until Harry closed the projection and exited the room.  
  
James and Sirius shared a look as Harry turned his back and left the room.  
  
"He looks so small."  
  
Sirius, hearing the level of dejection in James voice tried to comfort him, "He hasn't had the best life you know?"  
  
"I know, you told me. Albus. Do you think he realizes the gift is a blood charm?" James asked still looking at the closed door.  
  
"No."  
  
"I wonder how far he will be willing to go."  
  
"More than you ever were James. He doesn't have the Marauder's, he barely has friends, and all he knows now is how to push himself to help what friends he does have."  
  
James turned and smiled at his friend, "He will be great, wont he?"  
  
"I have no doubts about my godson."  
  
"My son," James sighed.  
  
James and Sirius shared another look, one that spoke volumes of gratefulness and jealousy.

* * *

Once out of the room Harry looked right then left.  
  
Harry cursed himself, _'damn it, I should have asked where the library was!'  
_  
Harry only smiled to himself at the thought and set out to fully explore his manor. He wondered where he really was, and how well protected. Of course he trusted his father and Sirius, but it was in Harry's nature to be suspicious. Dumbledore would never find him here, and he wouldn't have to see him until he arrived back at Hogwarts at the beginning of the new term according to the both of them. He turned the corner into the east wing on the third floor and found himself in a cavernous room with mostly filled bookshelves, but for the better part empty. Harry assumed that the books in his chest must have been the missing ones, and he could ask his father later why that had been removed and stored in the vault.  
  
Placing the chest on the floor and enlarging it, Harry opened the lid, and before he could even reach inside, the books started flying out and arranging themselves on the empty shelves.  
  
_'They must know that they belong here,'_ he reasoned.  
  
The only book that was left was the book that Griphook had given him before he left Gringotts. He picked it up and found a moderately sized table next to a window letting in the bright sunny day and sat down to read, but then he had a thought.  
  
"Uhm, Tory?" Harry asked unsure of himself.  
  
POP!  
  
"Yes Master Potter Sir?" the tiny house elf replied when she materialized.  
  
"Just Harry please, is there anyway that I could have a sandwich and something to drink sent up here while I study?" he asked the shy looking house elf.  
  
"Yes Master Harry," Tory replied as she snapped her finger and a platter with two sandwiches, both turkey, one of white and one on wheat with all sorts of vegetables and condiments laid out on the side, and to Harry's surprise a bottle of butterbeer.  
  
"Wow, thank-you Tory," Harry said taking in the spread and dying to tuck in.  
  
Tory eyed him for a moment and then saw that Harry was genuinely grateful for her assistance and the food and smiled a little then said, "it is my pleasure Master Harry," then another...  
  
POP!  
  
And Tory was gone from the library.  
  
_No one knows where I am, no one knows what I'm going to study, Tonks is surely upset at what I did to her, Remus more than likely knows what has happened but wont ever be able to find me now. I should probably show him this place, my dad and Sirius would probably like to talk to him. Dumbledore, my father called him Albus... that seems to fit better when I think of him, didn't see fit to inform my parents of what was really happening, more pawns in his life-sized wizard chess set! Voldemort wont be able to find me, neither will my friends, Hedwig!, maybe she's here already?_  
  
"Tory?" Harry asked again.  
  
POP!  
  
"Yes Master Harry, is something not to your liking?" Tory asked a little afraid of what Harry might say.  
  
"No, no everything is fine, it's just that I'm expecting my owl, Hedwig, you haven't seen her have you?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes Master Harry, there was a bright white owl that was allowed to pass the barrier to the house, she is in the aviary on the grounds in the back garden sir," Tory stated.  
  
"Oh, ok. Thanks again Tory."  
  
"It is never a problem sir," she said as she snapped her fingers again.  
  
POP!  
  
Harry opened the book Griphook had given him, grabbed half of the wheat sandwich, and began the first true day of his training.  
  
_No one knows about me._


	5. Deliberations

**Deliberations:**  
  
Albus Dumbledore, considered the wizarding world's greatest wizard, arrived at the Headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix by portkey instead of usual method of apparatition. In the early morning hours he had been informed that a situation had arisen, causing the protective wards at number 4 Privet Drive to fall, which meant the occupants would most assuredly be placed in mortal peril if action were not to be taken. Having expected something of this nature to occur, but not knowing to the full extent why or how the wards had fallen, the headmaster ordered the occupants to be relocated to a secure position, save for Harry Potter who was to be taken directly to headquarters. Albus Dumbledore had known that Harry was not only grieving over the loss of his godfather, furious at headmaster for hiding information from him over the five years he had been under his care as a student, but he simply could not bring himself to believe what his mind was saying to him.  
  
He was afraid for Harry, not for the first time, but afraid that Harry had hurt himself deliberately. Suicide was always a threat for wizards faced with a prophecy that altered their life. The sense that they no longer had any control over the events in their lives, that whatever happened to them was preordained and there was no possibility to alter their destiny. Nearly all that were beset by prophecies were against them, but equal to all opposed they all bore witness to what was foretold. There was simply no escape, which led most 'beneficiaries' of prophecies to try and regain some semblance of control, that being their own ability to take their lives. Few had succeeded in ending their existence, but those that did were simply bringing their destinies to fruition, and this plagued Albus Dumbledore's mind. If Harry had succeeded, then everything he had worked for, everything he had done for Harry was done in vain and all hope surely was lost.  
  
**Either must die at the hand of the other.**  
  
_'Had Tom made his was into Harry's mind again? He could no longer possess him, and he had learned that at the Ministry. Had there been more images planted in Harry's sleep that he could simply no longer deal with?'_  
  
He was merely a fifteen year old boy, and already he had seen more pain, death and cruelty than nearly all wizards would see in their lifetime.  
  
_'Was Riddle responsible for this morning's earlier event?'_  
  
Surely not, for there would have been dozens of Death Eaters waiting for the moment when they could enter Harry's home, and three order members would be no match, no matter how well trained they were as Aurors. There wasn't any evidence that Riddle knew anything about what had happened this morning, although there was no doubt that someone was now informing him. That particular someone who have the great displeasure of being on the receiving end of Tom Riddle's hateful outburst- which more than likely was an above average cursing with the Cruciatus curse. Harry must have done something, what Albus couldn't imagine as of yet, he was required at Grimmauld Place, but he was expecting the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge any moment to discuss possible plans for defense and strategy for the wizarding populous.  
  
Albus had a grave disposition toward the current minister that could only be described with the utmost loathing for this mans stupidity and self- righteousness; but was well concealed with his friendly grandfatherly like features and twinkling azure blue eyes that were hidden behind his half- moon spectacles. At the moment, he had neither the time nor had he ever had the inclination to discuss with Fudge what the man was on his way here to do. The title Minister of Magic should be help by someone with enough competence to govern without having to run to the man that everyone looked up with a problem arose, that was why he was elected, to represent the peoples wishes and do his damndest to protect them. He was not elected to enjoy the comfort that his position offered him, take advantage of the simple pleasures that he could afford himself now, he was too be a servant of the people. However the man that now held the position was a power mongering, idiotic and more interested in self-preservation than he was to accept that Albus had informed him a year prior what was about to happen. But now, that Fudge had witnessed both Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore dueling in the Ministry of Magic against Tom Riddle, he had pulled his head out of the sand, and starting to make decisions on how to prepare for what was to come. Although another problem arose from this situation, Fudge had no idea how to prepare for a war. Albus Dumbledore and the previous Minister of Magic were the men responsible for organizing the government for war; Fudge was a bureaucrat plain and simple.  
  
At the start of his term in office, Fudge had constantly been asking Dumbledore's advice on certain situations, what he would do here and what he thought he should do, what was best. He never forgot how much support that Dumbledore had garnered when the former Minister of Magic had stepped down from office. The nominations were made, Cornelius Fudge had placed his name on the ticket, and ran for the office, Dumbledore had never even made the gesture of considering the position, but the people had given him their support should he choose to take it. This fact never left Fudge's mind, until he started to grow accustomed to being Minister of Magic. The power abated his fear, and with Voldemort gone, and 14 years of relative peace he corrupted himself with it.  
  
But, now here he was on the precipice of a major political fiasco, running to Albus Dumbledore to seek his advice. To find out what to do. Should he apologize for dragging both Dumbledore's and Harry Potter's names through the mud when they were telling the truth and he feared they were trying to cause political instability, a coup to remove him from his office. Or should he walk into the headmasters office with the air of confidence that he so readily wore in the political arena, he could speak with conviction, even if he didn't whole heartedly believe in what he was saying, or even if didn't know much about what he was saying- but Albus Dumbledore would see straight through him. No, Cornelius Fudge Minister of Magic had no idea what he was about to say, other than, "help." And it would not due for him to just say this, and expect for it to come readily, nor could he really ask, he was stuck in the middle of the biggest conundrum of his life.  
  
On the way up the stairs through Hogwarts Fudge kept repeating to himself, that he was about to speak with Albus Dumbledore, a man with more compassion that any other. A man that would help no matter what the circumstances, yes, he was sure that the outcome of this meeting would be the beginning to a great number of solutions to the wizarding world's problems. At the moment, it was here, strictly in England, and like he had done himself, foreign governments were refusing to listen to anything about the supposed return of the Dark Lord. 'Dumbledore must help, he must!' Cornelius muttered to himself before he knocked on the headmaster's office door.  
  
"Come in Cornelius," Albus said while not taking his eyes of the fireplace he was standing in front of.  
  
This meeting was unavoidable, and no matter where Albus Dumbledore wanted to be at this moment, he was stuck here, dealing with this fool. At least this fool was willing to accept his help and advice once more. Had there been another year where Fudge had refused to listen to reason the entirety of the United Kingdom would be enthralled in another wizard war. Fudge was willing to listen now, and the problem of Tom Riddle was so far contained to the isle of England- however uncertain that notion might be. No one was certain how far Riddle had reached since his return, thoughts of Riddle's influence needed to be stored and saved for another time, now was the time for preparations. Luckily, the Order of the Phoenix had never truly been disbanded just extended hiatus, and with a year's operational experience so far with the new threat, they had amassed a great deal of information. A network of spies had been set in place, monitoring of high profile known Death Eaters, their world had become completely clandestine again it seemed.  
  
"Good-morning Albus," Cornelius said as cheerily as he could muster. He had decided to go with confidence, even if Dumbledore could see through it, a brave face never hurt. Having attended a smaller school near his childhood home, he had never given much thought to the different houses that Hogwarts had offered, but he did fancy himself more a Hufflepuff than any other. Loyal and hardworking he thought of himself.  
  
Not needed to perform any version of Legilimency, Albus could read Fudge's thoughts as if his body was nothing more than a transparent piece of parchment that displayed his mind to any who would gaze upon it. He had the urge to laugh when he thought of Fudge being seated up the sorting stool, then having the hat placed upon his head and being rejected. To Albus Dumbledore, Fudge was not even worthy of Slytherin. There was a deadly fearsome streak to Albus that not many had seen; in fact the last to view it had been the dark wizard Grindelwald when Albus had finally struck him down. At this moment, he had the urge to cause Fudge an aneurysm in his brain, and floo out, but Albus wasn't that man anymore.  
  
"Cornelius," Dumbledore replied, not really paying an attention to the other man.  
  
"Well, you know why I'm here so let's just get on with it shall we?" Fudge was being highly presumptuous.  
  
"Why don't you explain to me why you are here Cornelius, and then we will see whether or not there is anything to get on with," Albus said still remaining stoic in front of the fire.  
  
"You-Know-Who is back of course, I was under the impression that we were going to be discussing plans for the future this morning, Albus. Have I made a mistake?" Fudge said, obviously flustered by the lack of cooperation he was not readily receiving.  
  
Albus finally turned from the fire, still as expressionless as before, even his friendly grandfather like demeanor did nothing to hide his hardened expression.  
  
"Harry Potter and myself, informed your one year prior to this meeting Cornelius about the return of Tom Riddle, and you did nothing. Well you did something; you managed to try and embarrass me and discredit me in front of the wizarding world, which did not work as you could well see. Mr. Potter's and my name were unceremoniously dragged through mud by so called muckrakers at the Daily Prophet, who admitted to being under the ministries influence in doing so. Your inability to act on Mr. Potter's and my word last year, led you to also place a member of your counsel here in this school, where you granted her many powers with her decrees. Her implementation with your approval caused..." Albus paused lowering and shaking his head, "... pain, grief, sadness, and above all else unbridled fury directed toward the ministry," Albus stated with a sad tone.  
  
Fudge tried to respond, "I... I..."  
  
"I am not finished Cornelius, you had the governors and Ms. Umbridge remove me from my position of Headmaster, which placed every student here in more danger than you can possibly imagine. That same member of your counsel is responsible for the unlawful holding of underage witches and wizards against their will, along with the students that aided her in doing so. There was an attempt by Ms. Umbridge to curse Mr. Potter with an unforgivable, and it was also revealed that she was the one responsible for releasing the pair of Dementors after Mr. Potter this past summer, while she was under the impression that she was performing a favor to the Minister of Magic; that so desperately wanted Mr. Potter out of the way for causing a stir in the magical community. You are also responsible for not taking my counsel when I informed you of Sirius Black's innocence 14 years ago the first time and three years ago again. His death is on your hands, even if Bellatrix Lestrange was the one to administer the final blow. There is also the detail of how the Minister of Magic would allow himself to consort with the highly ranked Death Eater Lucius Malfoy. Surely lining your money bag with gold was not enough for you to give him the keys to the ministries bowels," Albus wasn't asking questions just stating his case for reducing Fudge to less than nothing.  
  
Fudge not taking this lightly was seeing this as a threat and started, "See here Albus, we have a serious problem."  
  
"YES WE DO CORNELIUS!" Albus bellowed, causing his entire office to shake.  
  
Cornelius Fudge the Minister of Magic soiled himself.  
  
Albus Dumbledore disgusted with both himself for his outburst, his inability to control himself, and Cornelius' own inability to control his excretion system; turned his back on the minister and stared in the fire once more to collect himself.  
  
"Cornelius, you will do nothing but what I tell you to do. You have always been a puppet, it is what you are suited I am truly aggrieved to say. I am responsible for your ability to start your career as minister, and responsible for your ability to secure peace for these past years. I then thought that you were capable, surely more than willing it seemed for me to no longer proverbially hold your hand in the wizard and political arena. Alone you have made a mockery of yourself and the office that you hold. The fault lies with me for not stepping in sooner to make you see what you were doing; for that I can not forgive myself. But would you have accepted my advice? Or would you have acted exactly as you had?"  
  
Fudge was looking slightly less fearful now that Albus had his back to him, but his embarrassment was more than enough to make him simply comply with what was being said about it him, it was the truth... sadly, and he knew it. He was trying to find his voice when he stammered, "are... are you going to use the Imperius on me?"  
  
Albus Dumbledore huffed. This man truly was nothing more than the excrement that was lining the back of his leg. He turned to face Fudge.  
  
"Ask yourself Cornelius, do you honestly think that I would lower myself to using an unforgivable?"  
  
All that Cornelius Fudge could reply to that question was to lower his head and shake it back and forth in a negative gesture.  
  
Dumbledore walked to his desk, and opened the topmost drawer; the face of the drawer was transfigured to hold the carved image of a Phoenix resting on the shoulder of a muscular lion. Inside was a simple manila folder, no magic to enlarge it for something to be hidden inside, just a few simple pieces of parchment with instructions for what he wanted Cornelius to do. These plans gave no information on what the order was currently doing; they were just a listing of what was expected of the minister at the time. Dumbledore closed the drawer and summoned Cornelius' attaché case, and placed the folder inside. Then he banished back into Fudge's lap. The stench was starting to emanate from Fudge until Albus whispered, 'evanesco' and waved his hand in the direction of the minister.  
  
"We are done here Cornelius," Dumbledore stated flatly.  
  
Fudge not knowing what to say simply stood and left the room, just as quickly and as simply as he had been dismissed.  
  
Once Cornelius' made he past the protective wards of Hogwarts he apparated back to his office, where he went straight to his desk and sat. Leaning forward on his desk, his elbows propping him up and his fingers laced together through his graying hair, he relived the moments he had just experience, muttering the whole time. Summoning a bottle of Ogden's from his private wet bar, he proceeded to try and drink away his mistakes.  
  
Percy Weasley, junior aide the Minister of Magic, opened the door to the Ministers office and was about to walk in when he caught sight of the man sitting at his desk looking like he was having a nervous breakdown. Percy watched him rock and forth, hands behind his head and muttering to himself with a bottle of firewhisky standing prominently on the ornate wooden desk in front of him. Not wanting to be the one that found his boss in a right state, Percy back away from the door and quietly closed it.  
  
'What happened to Mr. Fudge?' he asked himself before setting off to find the senior aide to the Minister of Magic.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was only slightly furious at himself for losing his temper when speaking with the Minister of Magic. Better that Fudge had been corrupted by power, why should he have been an exception.  
  
The meeting between the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the Minister of Magic lasted no longer than half an hour and it was now ten thirty in the morning. Albus Dumbledore was about to floo to Grimmauld Place when an imperial looking barn owl breezed through his open office window and set up perch atop his high leather wingback chair. There was no correspondence that he had been expected this morning, but then again maybe this was word from Harry, or information about what had happened this morning.  
  
Dumbledore reached the owl, and noticed that there were was a very thick envelope attached to the thong tied to the owl. He quickly removed the letter from the owl, spoke his thanks to the bird, which hooted and then flew out the window.  
  
The ornate seal of Gringotts Wizarding Bank was impressed upon the otherwise blank envelope. There was no need to address the letter to the Headmaster, his status at the bank insured that he one of the highest standing available in goblin society for a human. He reached for the pen knife on the left side of his desk and sliced the wax seal holding the letter together. Once open a secondary letter fell from the first, this letter was marked for Albus Dumbledore with the instruction that it not be read until after the primary message was thoroughly digested.  
  
'_Odd,_' Albus thought to himself, then chuckled resuming his old friendly and enjoyable demeanor.  
  
Albus unfolded the parchment quickly in order to acquire whatever information he needed to receive and then be on his way to Grimmauld Place. He had the feeling though that this letter from Gringotts was to inform him of the death of Sirius Black and the transference of his entire estate to the Potter Family Vault, this had come sooner than he had expected, and he was grateful that he could spare Harry more grief over his godfather. The last thing he believed Harry needed at this moment, wherever he was, was the thought of Sirius leaving him an inheritance. The entirety of what the boy had left of his parents and now his godfather was a large vault and property, and he knew that Harry would have given it all away if he had the opportunity. Albus knew that Harry knew he would never have to want for money, but he had only seen his trust account. And when the time came Harry would be personally escorted to his family's vault by himself, no other would be present for that revelation.  
  
No, Harry would have shunned what Sirius had left him if he wasn't found quickly, he would act rashly and write a note to the goblins at Gringotts and tell them that '_he didn't want the money or the homes; that they could keep them for all he cared_'- Dumbledore could see Harry writing. If Harry didn't want the money and property then the inheritance of the Black Family Estate would be transferred to Sirius' nearest living relative. According the wizarding records Sirius closest living relative, happened to be Narcissa Malfoy.  
  
His hands gripped the side of the parchment and his eyes tilted, looking through his crescent glassed and down his nose, Albus read...  
  
**For the Record of**: **Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore**  
  
_Headmaster Dumbledore_  
  
_ This notice has been sent to you in order to inform you that your position of Wizard Guardian of one Harry James Potter at Gringotts Wizarding Bank has been released. Due to the circumstances revolving around Mr. Potter and his late Godfather Sirius Black, your relationship is no longer required. Your monthly reports involving the status of Mr. Potters Trust Account and Family Vault no longer being necessary will no longer be delivered.  
We at Gringotts Wizarding Bank would like to express our gratitude for your gracious care of our client up to this date and your pleasant dealings with the bank itself. We look forward to business with you in the future and will continue to maintain the highest care for your own personal accounts.  
  
Account Manager to the Potter Family Vaults, _

_Goblin- Blatak _  
  
Albus Dumbledore was not a wizard that was easily perplexed, but he found this letter to be highly confusing before he made the connection that the letter made about the circumstances between Sirius Black and Harry Potter. There was only one conclusion to be drawn about this letter and Albus was finding it more than difficult to accept this as plausible. There was only one way to confirm his fears.  
  
He bent and picked up the second letter that had fallen to the floor and slightly groaned when he stood back up, his age was finally starting to catch up with him. The day that was drawing closer and closer to when he would rely on magic to conceal this was one that Albus Dumbledore was dreading.  
  
The second letter had been addressed simply _Albus_.  
  
**S.B.  
**  
_ Albus, my old headmaster, this letter would only be seeing the light of day, if I had passed on prematurely to Harry's of age birthday. If my death has occurred, no worries, I'm with my best mate and his wife and we're waiting for you... Also if this letter has seen the light of day and it is indeed before Harry's 17th birthday then congratulations you have an underage emancipated wizard on your hands to deal with now!  
  
_'_No, Sirius, you would not have done this,_' Albus spoke to himself as he read.  
  
_No doubt you're probably thinking to yourself that this has got to be THE MOST INSANE prank that I could have ever pulled, well I've done it, and from beyond the grave no less. This is all I can give to Harry, this all I can give to my godson that matters anymore. His entire life has been one abusive episode after the next AND YOU'RE TO FUCKING BLAME! YES YOU! CONVINCING LILY THAT SHE, HARRY AND JAMES WOULD BE SAFER UNDER THE FIDELIUS IN ANOTHER LOCATION, YOU DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THE HALF OF HOW WELL THEY WERE PROTECTED WHERE THEY WERE, but that's between you, James and myself, we all kept secrets from one another and we all paid. James and Lily are murdered as a result of one of our best friends betraying us and our stupidity at switching myself with that rat wormtail. James and I thinking that Remus was the spy and turning our backs on our friend, which caused him to run off for 12 years to god knows where, he won't even tell me where he was. I lost my mind for a day and ending up in Azkaban for 12 years without a trial- NO THANKS TO YOU! OH BUT BLOODY FUCKING GREAT, VOLDEMORTS DEAD WHEN HE GOES AFTER HARRY AND FOR A CONSOLATION PRIZE IN LOSING EVERYONE THAT LOVED HIM IN ONE NIGHT YOU SEND HIM TO LIVE WITH THOSE DAMNABLE MUGGLES! DID YOU EVEN THINK BEYOND THE FACT THAT THEY WERE RELATED BY BLOOD, DID YOU, YOU BASTARD? DON'T YOU DARE START THINKING THAT YOU LOVE HIM AS WELL, BECAUSE YOU ABANDONED HIM THAT NIGHT WHEN YOU LEFT HIM ON THE DOORSTOP WITH A NOTE, AND EVERY YEAR THAT HE WAS OFF AT SCHOOL YOU WATCHED HIM FROM AFAR TO MAKE SURE HE WAS ALRIGHT, AND WHEN HE COMES TO YOU FOR ANSWERS, HE GETS A VAGUE RESPONSE ABOUT IT NOT BEING TIME YET! YEAH HE TOLD ME! I know that you're only human, and you make mistakes, but now you have to pay for them, Harry will know about the prophecy by now I'm sure and will be starting to do what he was meant to do even without the prophecy. I've given Harry freedom, and choice, and you're more than likely thinking about all the harm that will be caused to Harry because of this, correct? You're wrong, you wont find Harry until he comes out, not even Riddle will be able to find him, and when Harry does surface, I'd give anything to be in your office that day and then happily die again after he breaks your own spirit and turns his back on you, and you know he will. I remember James doing it. You never truly knew James, just the person he wanted you and the rest of the world to see, and I want you to remember his son as you know him now, put it in a pensieve because that's likely to be the last memory you'll have of Harry showing you anything but what you deserve. So pray to the gods that he forgives you for your follies and your hand in his fucked up life, I've forgiven you already Albus so don't worry, we make choices and live with their consequences, I can only hope that you can forgive me after writing you this letter. I know I'm not an easy man anymore, so I'll say that I am truly sorry, and mean it with every fiber in my being... and hope that it shows through these words. Do not try to find Harry, because you will not; orchestrate the battle without him involved right now. Good- bye Albus... and WE will be waiting for you.  
  
Sirius Black.  
  
_Tears were falling down the old wizards face when he finally reached the end of the letter.  
  
'_Have I truly caused Harry so much harm?_'  
  
Albus Dumbledore fell backwards, and thankfully his chair was charmed to follow him, otherwise the man would have fallen onto the carpeted floor. The chair accepted him and molded to his body. He wanted so desperately for the first time in half a century to bury his head in his hands and weep openly. Albus was starting to second guess himself and that was something that he hadn't allowed himself to do since he turned the age twenty. The thoughts of Harry being beaten, starved and locked in a small cupboard under the stairs in his relatives home, had never been mentioned to him, but they were there now, and he had no doubt that Sirius had charmed the letter to flash images from Harry's life. Images that Sirius had stolen while Harry slept at night in Grimmauld place. Those same images that were responsible for some of Sirius's own nightmares. Homicidal thoughts towards the Dursley's for their actions, constant guilt at never having been there; and never having escaped from Azkaban to find him and be a family.  
  
Albus Dumbledore could feel all of these emotions radiating off the parchment, and then more images would come. He could not have said how Sirius had managed to siphon these thoughts from Harry; the greatest wizard in the world knew only one thing at the moment and that was he was sick with himself. His hands which looked even older after having read Sirius' letter reached his face started brushing his tears aside, and he stood straight up. After he brushed his robes down, he folded Sirius' letter and placed it in the inside pocket of his robes.  
  
Now, a semi-collected Albus Dumbledore strode to the fireplace in his and tossed the letter from Gringotts into the fire. He no longer hand any use for it, it would prove to be of no use for someone other than him to read its contents. Sirius' letter he would keep on him until he discussed the recent events with the order members.  
  
Trying to compose himself a little more than he currently was, he then apparated to Grimmauld Place. Albus had the suspicion that being in this home would now have a different feel.  
  
Before the letter, Albus had never given the state of Grimmauld Place a second thought, the home was black and dank, reeking of old dark magic, that was until Molly Weasley and the children had lightened it up a bit. He'd never considered this place a prison, even when he saw the look in Sirius' eye when he had ordered him not to leave. His best intentions were to keep Sirius' safe here, but he had failed to see the past this place carried; and the effect it had hit its owner with every day.  
  
Now, being in the drawing room of Sirius', no, one of Harry's home's he could feel the mental pain that he had subjected Sirius to for a year. He had to suppress a shudder and the sensation of loathing of himself for ignorance. Albus had also not considered how long he had sat in contemplation after reading the letters from Gringotts, he had removed his own version of a pocket watch foregoing the use of his planetary model; six twenty five in the evening.  
  
'_How have I lost so much time? How have I lost so much, in the span of a day?_' he asked himself regretfully.  
  
This morning had been a frightening experience for the old wizard, then in the pre-noon hours he had been disgusted with himself and the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, and now in the early evening he felt truly humbled. One extraordinary boy, and one letter from a dead man, had so humbled Albus Dumbledore that he had to refer to his last memory of feeling this emotion. That memory being of James Potter standing in his office, more calm and collected that any man had ever been in Dumbledore's presence and tearing into him with his words.  
  
'_Would Harry truly turn out to be like his father, just like everyone referred to him when they look him?_'  
  
He could reflect on his mistakes and memories later, now was the time to speak to the order to see what had truly happened and to find a way to repair any damage done, if there was truly a way to repair the damage that Sirius, Harry and Albus had all collectively inflicted on the world within one day.  
  
Albus made his way down the basement stairs of Grimmauld Place to consult with the various members of the order that were there at the moment. Little did he know that every member that did not have business to conduct this evening was gathered around the kitchen table. Each member discussing with whoever was closest to them the events of this morning, and a few conversations that included the headmasters name and questioned his whereabouts- some were thinking that Albus himself had stepped in with the emergency portkey programmed to relocate Harry to a safer location.  
  
It was the idea that the order members were starting to believe that Albus had personally seen to Harry that had saved Albus trying to come up an explanation.  
  
"Albus!" Molly Weasley yelled from behind the stove, then she ran over to the door, placed both hands on the wizard's upper arms, "Where is Harry, is everything alright, where have you been all day!?"  
  
"Molly, please," Dumbledore said with his usual powerful air, raised his hand to her shoulder in an effort to ease her stress and said, "I will explain it to everyone that is present this evening."  
  
This did little to pacify Molly Weasley considering the right state that she had been in all day. Fred and George had been lucky enough to have their shop in Diagon Alley; Arthur Weasley who was usually tasked with calming his wife was still at the office, Bill and Charlie were both away on order business- where and what they were doing they would not disclose to her, Percy whom the rest of the family had practically disowned was at work as well with the Minister of Magic. So by default Ron and Ginny suffered through her mothers torrents of emotion. Ron kept thinking that Harry had better be alright because he was going to kill him for what he was doing to his mum. Ginny was fighting between crying and letting out a stream of curses at both her mother and brother, her mother for not being rational about all of this and placating her daughter who secretly still carried a flame for Harry and was worried about what was happening to him right now, and her brother for constantly failing to comfort his mother and muttering under his breath about killing Harry for doing this to his mum.  
  
There at least 15 order members seated at the table in the basement kitchen of the house. All the regulars were there, Mundungus, Kingsley, Tonks, Moody, Moony, Diggle, Doge, Figg, McGonagal, Podmore, Snape, Vance, and a few other that were not known to Ron. Seeing as how the dinner discussion revolved around the disappearance of the wards that were supposed to protect Harry and his own disappearance his mum didn't have any reason to make him leave the kitchen, so he plopped in the empty seat next to Remus Lupin and soaked in the conversation, and when a few of the order members had begun come to the conclusion that it must have been Dumbledore that had given Harry the portkey for such an occasion, the headmaster himself walked through the kitchen doors, and Ron knew exactly what that meant. Dumbledore's presence meant to Ron Weasley a silent and instant dismissal from the room, so he obeyed, albeit reluctantly, but he never fought or questioned the headmasters word. Especially when it had been Albus Dumbledore that had appeared in the Ministry of Magic and saved Harry, the Aurors had taken care of the students, but Dumbledore saw to Harry's safety personally and this brought up a few emotions in Ron that he really didn't want to have to deal with. Jealousy topped the list, but one day he'd hope this summer he'd get the chance to talk with both Harry and Dumbledore and find out what the hell was going on, and why it was the Harry so bloody special, got everything that he wanted, and Ron was just the best mate in the shadows.  
  
Dumbledore's gaze traveled down the table and landed directly on Ron, and he understood what the headmaster wanted so he obeyed and left the room with Ginny in tow.  
  
Once Ron and Ginny had left the room, all that remained were order members, and the expressions they wore on their faces ranged from bewilderment for the most part, to fury on Tonks face, and amusement and pride streaked across Remus'. Dumbledore saw the look that Remus was wearing and made a mental note to speak to him after the preliminary meeting. He did not know that Remus was hoping to speak with him as well, or that Remus knew as much as he did, more than Dumbledore, but not enough for what he wanted. Albus removed his wand and waved it towards all the doors and spoke, '_imperturbatus_' sealing the doors, then waved his wand in the perimeter motion again and did not even move his lips and they were all encased in a soft blue bubble that the order members assumed was for an extra precautionary measure.  
  
"Good-evening everyone, I trust you are well?" Albus said with his usual smile on his face.  
  
"Headmaster, what has that boy done now, how can you let him carry on like this, it is only the second day since he's been out of school, and he's already managed this!?" Snape spat out.  
  
"His name is Harry, Severus, and you would do well to mind your tongue when it concerns him from now on," Remus off handedly replied with his right hand propped under his chin, looking like there wasn't a thing wrong in the world.  
  
"What are you speaking of, and why the hell are you smiling, you've just lost your friend, I thought you'd have more respect for a member of your PACK than this," Snape said sneering, happy that he was able to make a remark about Lupin's Lycanthropy without being cut off by the headmaster.  
  
"I have and am still grieving for both of my lost friends, something you will never know it seems, but those responsible will soon be dealt with justly," Remus said still grinning and staring at Snape whose sneer had faded from his face and was now replaced by a mix of fear and confusion.  
  
Snape did not know what to make of Lupin's new found confidence and lack of guilty air. Remus had no part in what happened at the ministry last week, but surely he should still be showing the signs of sadness that he had lost a friend, even if it was Black. And the comment about not knowing grief for a lost friend cut deep into his personal shield, then about those involved being dealt with justly, he didn't even mention responsible for what, was he speaking of both James Lily and Sirius, what was Remus playing at Snape wondered. Was he threatening him?  
  
Every member of the order was staring at the confrontation between Snape and Remus, wondering what Remus was talking about and wondering why he was unaffected by what Snape had just hit him with, and was Remus threatening Snape. Dumbledore watched this small conflict with great interest, if this meant what he believed it to; Snape was to be in obvious danger soon. Albus knew that Remus was not the once threatening Severus, but the thought of the one that would carry out the threat was sending chills down his spine.  
  
"Are you threatening me... _beast_?" Snape was sneering once more, but the apprehension in his voice was clear to everyone listening.  
  
"Come off it Severus, your interpretation of what I've said is up to you," Remus said grinning broadly. Of course it hurt Remus that both of his friends were now beyond the veil, it hurt more than any of these people would know. But now, Remus was starting to receive a sense of closure at the prospect of both Harry's and his future.  
  
"Headmaster!?" Snape turned his head to shout at Dumbledore.  
  
"Come now Severus, running to Albus to hide, you might just be onto your own personal trademark," Remus said sharply.  
  
"HOW DARE YOU!" Snape had turned again to face Remus, and slammed his fists on the table.  
  
"Aw, the truth hurts to hear doesn't it Severus," now outright mocking the greasy man in front of him Remus said.  
  
"I will not stand for this, headmaster can we get to dealing with _POTTER_ now?" Snape asked a little too loudly and a little forcibly for someone speaking to Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"Severus, of course you won't stand for this, you're still sitting," Remus chuckled. What he was doing was childish, but cathartic, and from what he saw when he used his periphery vision to look around the table nearly every other member was also trying to suppress laughs that were being taken at Snape's current disposition.  
  
This kind of treatment was usually served by Sirius, but Remus was sure that that his best friend would not mind him picking up where he had left off.  
  
Severus Snape was now fuming in his seat; his face flushed bright red, which didn't seem at all possible when he was so pale all the time. Some thought he had porphyria, and then there were those that thought he truly was a vampire. None of these assumptions were true; the man simply stuck to his dungeons and did not care for what others thought of him. The exception to not caring what people thought of him was being humiliated as he was right now in front of the order members by none other than a werewolf.  
  
"Severus, calm yourself, we will speak after this meeting. Remus I would also like to speak with you after I've had words with Severus," Albus said simply.  
  
"Of course headmaster," Snape nodded.  
  
"Ok Albus," Remus said, although he longer wore his smile, his outward expression had hardened when the old mans made his request.  
  
"You all know the events of this morning by now, so there is no need to repeat them or review our actions. Mr. Potter after having verbally disowning his relatives," Albus paused, "... cutting his own flesh and speaking with what would have had to have been every ounce of conviction he possessed, demonstrated his ability to sever ties. For a reason that I have been researching all afternoon after my meeting with Cornelius, I have still yet to find a solution to explain how he would have been able to accomplish this feat. However, the how is quite inconsequential now. The protective wards that encased number 4 Privet Drive were brought down due to this act, and I am quite sure that he was employing all of his senses when doing this. Before Harry left Hogwarts, I explained to him the reason for his staying at the Dursley's and," he paused once more noticing all the members waiting with baited breath and a near salivating Severus, "... and what the prophecy truly said. Harry and I are the only ones who know of what it speaks, so please do not ask me divulge what even I should not know. That is Harry's right and I will not involve myself there. My only conclusion so far is that Harry truly could not stand the stress I have imparted onto him, and acted in a manner that he best saw fit."  
  
Snape snorted, thinking that Potter couldn't deal with the stress and had a mental breakdown and now the headmaster was covering for him- like he always did.  
  
Remus scowled at the headmaster, knowing full well what had most likely happened, and hated that he was disgracing Harry this way. This was now turning to a matter of honor, Remus had every right to call Albus out right now and challenge him for speaking this way; but that would have been suicide.  
  
The rest of the order members simply listened, taking in everything Albus Dumbledore had to tell them  
  
Albus continued on, "I then retrieved Harry from the Dursley's; that is why you did not see him leave, so please I would appreciate it for those of you on guard duty to stop accusing yourself of being incompetent." He looked directly at Tonks who in turn was herself marveling at the way the wooden table had been put polished.  
  
"The portkey that Mr. Potter possessed this morning was facilitated by myself, destined for a single purpose that I feel was best left between the two of us."  
  
Tonks looking at the table muttered so that everyone could hear, "Well he didn't need to embarrass me like that did he? He could have told me that you gave him the portkey, and was going to another location other than here."  
  
"My apologies Ms. Tonks, although I think you deserve Mr. Potter's as well," Dumbledore said flatly.  
  
"Thanks," she said to no one in particular. She was thinking of finding Harry and giving him a good wallop on the backside of his head for her trouble; probably a swift kick to the arse that Harry told her to tell Dumbledore...  
  
"Hey, wait a minute!" Tonks was trying to say until Remus grabbed her arm. Then she realized what was going on and muttered a never-mind, no one seemed to notice her previous outburst and if they did then they completely ignored her negation of the first.  
  
"Ok then, so where is Harry at?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked.  
  
Dumbledore replied, "I can not disclose his location, it is best if it remains undisclosed."  
  
"Fidelius?" a group of order members comprising of Diggle, Shacklebolt and Vance asked.  
  
"I truly can not answer such questions, but I can say that there will be no need for anyone to guard him where he is," Dumbledore replied without emotion.  
  
Everyone at the table was happy to hear that Harry was someplace safe, and most of them were happy that they would no longer have to stand under an invisibility cloak all day and stand watch over the Dursley's home, like they had the previous summers. And with the comment about there no longer being guards needed, Dumbledore removed his wand again from his right robe sleeve, dissolved the privacy bubble and spoke, '_finite incantatem_' while pointing his wand at the doors and removing the imperturbable charm.  
  
The order members, who had expected this meeting to last longer, were more than willing to accept Dumbledore's unspoken dismissal and filed out of the kitchen and began their climb up the basement stairs. Three remained however, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, and Nymphadora Tonks.  
  
Albus motioned Severus over towards the stove and raised another privacy bubble that encased them, then finally said to Severus, "you are going to have be much more cautious this coming year Severus, there will be a battle waiting for you on both sides of the line."  
  
"Headmaster, what are you speaking about, does this have something to do with Lupin's threat? If so, please tell me so I can end our little sparring sessions right now!" Snape hissed while trying to keep his calm in the presence of what he considered to be one of his mentors.  
  
"Remus is not threatening you for himself, but rather for Harry, you would do best to keep as much distance between the two of you as possible. Harry will no longer be... well, I will have to wait to see what will become of him," Dumbledore said sighing.  
  
Snape looking very concerned for the first time today face his mentor face to face and asked, "What do you mean Albus?"  
  
'_Not headmaster anymore?_' Albus asked himself amused at Severus' apparent fear.  
  
Albus simply placed a hand on Severus' shoulder and asked him to please be cautious, he did not know what Harry was subjecting himself to, what he was learning or what kind of person he would turn out to be after the summer. His father had always seemed happy, kind, and friendly, he had never shown any signs of negative feelings. Dumbledore concluded that he had two puzzles to solve now. One puzzle belonged to the father and the other one the son. He waved his wand and the privacy shield vanished, then he dismissed Severus, who apparated to Hogsmeade.  
  
Remus and Tonks seeing that the headmaster was finished speaking with Severus made there way over to where he was standing. Now finally having a closer look, Remus could tell that Albus looked much older than he usually did and the feeling of immense remorse was radiating from all around him.  
  
Dumbledore's wand was waved once more and he encased them, and then handed the letter in his inside pocket over to Remus; who took it gently from the pale old gnarled hand.  
  
Tonks did not read over his shoulder, simply stood in silence staring at Dumbledore, who in turn was watching Remus read with the utmost attention.  
  
Remus showed no emotion when he finished the letter, folded it and handed it back to the old wizard.  
  
Albus raised an eyebrow expecting Remus to have said something after finishing the letter.  
  
Remus turned stoic before he said, "it's all true."  
  
"I see," Albus simply said while looking as stoic as Remus.  
  
However stoic Albus tried to present himself, it made no difference to a werewolf. He was part animal, he could sense emotions, and Albus Dumbledore was being drowned in an aura of guilt and sorrow.  
  
Tonks didn't have a clue as to what was going on between these two men, and she was the suspicion that she really had no want to either.  
  
"I'm sorry sir," Remus said at last breaking the silence.  
  
"So am I my boy, so very so I'm afraid," still remaining stoic.  
  
How he could keep his face like that Remus didn't know when everything about and around Albus Dumbledore was filled with sorrow and guilt and now doubt.  
  
"Sir," Tonks said, "I think I should tell you what Harry said before used the portkey," she getting very apprehensive and starting to feel some of the tension between the wizards.  
  
"I believe that I have a fair idea as to what he said, but if you must, please tell me," Albus and Remus shared a long look before Tonks spoke again.  
  
"He uhm..." Tonks had no clue as to how to say what she was about to say to the greatest wizard alive, so she just came out and said it, "he told me to tell you to kiss his arse, sir." She had tried to soften the blow with the sir at the end and hoped that it had alleviated a little bit of the sting he was sure to feel.  
  
"I believe my belief was somewhat correct, although I am not overly pleased to hear this I thank you for relaying the message to me. I am also truly sorry that you had to be there when Harry disappeared, it seems that he is much more than we all thought," Dumbledore said almost with a hint of pride.  
  
"I'm sorry sir," said staring straight at him. She wasn't about to look at the floor while apologizing, she was above acting like a school girl in front of Albus Dumbledore now.  
  
"It is quite alright, and it is not your fault that this happened," Dumbledore said trying to absolve some of her guilt.  
  
"Thank-you sir," she said her spirits trying to lift themselves.  
  
"Miss Tonks if you would please," he gestured towards the door, "I need to speak with Remus alone for a few moments,"  
  
"Of course sir."  
  
There was another wave of a wand and the shield came down. As soon as she stepped out of reach of the shield, it went right back up.  
  
Dumbledore flicked his wand and entered Remus' mind. The barriers of someone suffering from lycanthropy were difficult to break, but not impossible, and Albus felt no resistance from Remus. Whether he expected this to happen or was powerless to stop it once it began, Dumbledore did not know, but after a few moments he was inside of Remus' mind viewing memories that he too had taken from Harry in his sleep or from Sirius. This only resulted in more guilt. Dumbledore was trying to find information on where Harry might be, but Remus did not possess such knowledge so the search was incredibly futile. After twenty minutes of searching through Remus' entire mind, the aged headmaster only felt more tired and guiltier that before. He had found no knowledge of the true James Potter, he found only the James Potter he had already known. There was the notion that perhaps Remus did not know, but his comments at the table this evening had proved otherwise, and if that was the case why were there no memories of this? The answer at alluded him was the James had not shown him, for the reason that someone might break into his mind or that he did not want his friend to know. Perhaps this knowledge was saved for Sirius alone, someone he could confide in if need be.  
  
Remus stared at Albus and asked, "Did you find what you were looking for?" He wasn't trying to be snide, or accusing, but it certainly came out in that manner.  
  
"No, and I am sorry again. Remus, truly," Albus said starting to show that he was tired, something he had not showed in a great while.  
  
"Please Albus, no apologies are needed for me, those should be directed to Harry, if and when he decides to return to us. I have no knowledge of what he is going through, or where he is, and it will remain that way, but I have a very good idea from what Sirius and James had told me. You should know an idea is not something that you can extract when you perform Legilimency Albus, even on a normal human being."  
  
Then he added, "I am sorry Albus, things have been placed in the proper position for our time, and now we simply must watched as they fall into place. But I am sorry that you have to feel the way you do, for that I am truly sorry. And I can only guess that you warned Severus to be cautious this year, which will prove to be one of your greater ideas. Good night Albus," he turned and waiting for the shield to come down, and a second later it did, Remus left the kitchen without looking back.  
  
The world's greatest wizard leaned back against the wooden countertop. His head hung low, breathing in deeply, trying desperately to regain his grip on the situation.  
  
Tonks couldn't comprehend what she was seeing. From her viewpoint it looked like Albus Dumbledore had been beaten, and beaten harshly. Whatever happened today was certainly a different story than the one she and order members had received when he arrived and explained what happened today to them. This was certainly something that she did not want to bear witness too, a beaten Albus Dumbledore did nothing for morale, and would more than certainly only harm their efforts. She didn't know how to comfort him either, he had tried to absolve her of her guilt over this morning, but he was struggling with his own battles right now, he didn't even know that Tonks was in the same room as him right now. Finding Remus and making him explain this was what she needed to do. If she had tried to reach out to Albus she would be turned away surely, and his shields would rise again until he would retreat from the worlds view, she had the thought that Harry was more than likely experiencing a version of this himself, wherever he was.  
  
Tonks turned on her heel and retreated from the kitchen, in hopes of finding Remus, and trying to make sense of what was truly happening.  
  
Albus looked up when he heard the door and realized that he completely let his guard down. Was it time for him to finally step down from fighting? Harry was the one prophesized to deal with Tom Riddle, but he was just a boy, an untrained wizard. Now was not the time to step down he conscience was telling him. His guilt over what had happened to Harry would insure that he did what he could to make Harry's task easier. He would continue on as he had previously, until it was truly the right time.  
  
Dumbledore righted himself, brushed his robes again, and apparated back to his office at Hogwarts, the one place in the castle that was able to allow apparition, if only for the current headmaster.

* * *

Harry had finished both sandwiches, which he was truly happy for, and stopped reading Blatak's book. Most of what he had read about the use of goblin magic seemed to focus on concentration. All spells, if there was one, were spoken inside one's head in order to keep a possible enemy of knowing what was going to happen.  
  
It was a little past one, when he had finished his food and decided to stop reading and try to practice what he had read. Summoning and Banishing could be performed easily enough with a wand, but the practical use of being able to do both without a wand was a reward unto itself. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that there was any way to perform all magic wandless, from what he understood of the core of a wand and the type of wood acting as a catalyst for the raw magic inside the witch of wizard needed to be harnessed, and then focused and both of these were accomplished with the use of a wand. He had yet to come upon a wizard or witch that would be completely unfazed by the loss of their wand. Dumbledore, he had seen performed many simple tasks with the wave of his hand, and if Dumbledore did it, surely Riddle was able to use it to some extent, if not a greater extent than his headmaster.  
  
The book mentioned nothing of an incantation for either summoning or banishing so Harry situated himself in the center of the library, sat cross- legged on the floor to get comfortable, and forced himself to focus his mind on summoning the 4th book from the left on the 6th shelf of the center bookcase. He raised his hand and focused on summoning it, the result was not what he had expected. The book from his perspective merely shook a little in place.  
  
'_At least it's a good start,_' he thought to himself, slightly proud of what he'd done.  
  
He spent the next six hours in that position, never drifting from the summoning magic. This not only worked on his ability to focus his mind but it was slowly helping him to acquire more patience than the pitiful amount he already possessed. While he was working on the summoning charm, he had hoped that something inside of him would simply click and he would just figure it out, but that wasn't happening. His patience and calmness remained throughout he trial of focused wandless magic, he was unable it seemed to get angry or impatient with himself. It turned out that the give his father and this house had given him, was just that, a true gift to him.  
  
Nearing on seven in the evening, Harry had progressed a little further in his practical trial. It seemed that he had a slight advantage with banishing and object; if only a slight one at that, when he summoned the book it would now shake and slide forward a few inches, but with banishing he was able to pushed the book back in place without much effort. Harry realized that Blatak had been right to look slightly crestfallen when he mentioned not being born with this ability.  
  
At half past seven, Harry finally stood up, and realized that he was nearly soaked with sweat. He figured that the manor would provide him with clothing, but he didn't know where his room or a bathroom was so he called Tory.  
  
POP!  
  
"Yes Master Harry?" Tory asked smiling.  
  
"Can you show me to my room and a bathroom please," he said looking down at a happy house elf. She must not have had much to do around this place he thought.  
  
"Of course Master Harry, this way please," Tory said motioning him to follow her.  
  
Harry's room was located in the east wing on the second floor of the manor. It was twice as large as the Sirius' bedroom at Grimmauld Place. A sleigh bed that had to be twice the size of an average king size mattress was dressed with very soft to the touch white sheets, and a gigantic crimson coloured comforter made with down he thought as he ran his hand of the cold feeling fabric. Two night stands on either side of the bed with crystal lamps provided a guarded feeling to the beds headboard. When he had come in he noticed the bed to the left, and the large sitting area, complete with a few leather wingback chairs, a comfortable looking sofa, ornate looking rug and a highly polished coffee table. All of the furniture was placed in front of an enormous fireplace, twice as long as Harry was tall, an only slightly taller than. Off to the sides of the fireplace were double door entrances to other rooms.  
  
Toby chose this moment to speak up.  
  
"To the left of the fireplace is Master Harry's wardrobe, to the right in Master Harry room where he may bathe or shower," Tory said while pointing to each room.  
  
"Tory, please, just Harry," Harry asked still looking at both doors and deciding which to enter. He couldn't stand the title master, and if it was possible he would have set Tory free right there, but he understood that this was a true house elf to his family line and nothing like Dobby.  
  
"Very well, sir," said Tory, still mulling over the idea in her head.  
  
Sir was something he could deal with, master on the other hand made him feel grotesque in his own skin.  
  
"Thank-you Tory for your help," Harry said.  
  
"It is my pleasure sir," Tory said, then snapped her fingers and POP!  
  
Harry peeled off his clothes and threw them in what he guessed was the hamper, grabbed a towel out of the basket sitting on the sink counter, opened the shower door, turned the nozzle, and waited for the hot water to cascade over him.  
  
Had he been paying attention he would have noticed that there was more than one solitary fountain head pointed at him, and as soon as the water finished its course through the copper maze, warm water started to attack him from three sides. He didn't give the new thought to this unexpected development he simply sighed and gave himself over to the comfort that his new shower provided him.  
  
Three quarters of an hour later, Harry decided that there was no end to the manors supply of hot water and that there was no need to explore the showers boundaries of comfort any longer. He opened the door the shower and stepped out onto a wicker mat, which must have been placed there by Tory after he entered the shower he thought. Harry toweled himself off, reached for the terry cloth robe that Tory must have also placed there for him, and left the bathing room to find what his new wardrobe would provide for him.  
  
His wardrobe, which he had been guessing was about the size of an above average closet, guessing by the size of his bedroom, surprised him as well. Instead he found himself in something resembled a closet, he had walked into another ornate room. Deep red mahogany wood floors cooled the soles of his feet as he paced further into the room. On either side of him were two large shelves. The right side of the wardrobe on the top shelf, housed hundreds of different styles of shirts on wooden hangers: polo's, dress shirts, t-shirts, sleeveless, v necks; the bottom shelf was the same as the above only for trousers, slacks, and jeans. There was a wide assortment of color and fabric that every article of clothing was stitched from. On the left side on the room the bottom shelf contained what looked like at least two hundred boxes of trainers and dress shoes. Some of the names on the boxes he didn't recognize of even know how to pronounce, but the familiars were there, and he was grateful for the ever faithful swoosh symbol on a dozen of orange boxes. The top shelf on the left side there were two sections, the dichotomy made by only a break in the garments; to the right were everyday and dress robes, to the left were what looked to him like muggle business suits. Only he had never seen muggle business suits like these before, they appeared to have been woven by a much finer material, they didn't shine, but the deep black on most of the suits was mesmerizing, and the white pin stripes on others drew him in as well. Harry had to shake himself out of the stupor he was putting himself under.  
  
'_I wonder if they're meant to do this?_' he thought.  
  
From the entrance against the back wall, was a cabinet system that rose to Harry's sternum, it looked to be made of Holly, but was unpolished and stood out from the rest of the décor in the wardrobe. The cabinetry housed several drawers, and when Harry opened them he was finding drawers full of watches, muggle dress ties and bow ties, sock garters, socks or every sort, colognes, spare glasses- which he allowed himself to be tempted by and try on.  
  
To his surprise all of glasses that he found in bottom left drawer of the cabinetry were his exact prescription, or slightly better than what he was wearing now, so he opted to find a pair that closely resembled what he was wearing now and worry about style later. There also happened to be several small boxes lined next to each other off to the side of the drawer that housed the glasses.  
  
'_Contact lenses?_'  
  
Those would be saved for another day he told himself. The search of the cabinetry concluded with the center drawer, inside his found a very elegant looking piece of parchment surrounded by ornate hair ties, a plain looking silver pen knife, and a few rings; some gold, some silver looking but he guessed that they were most likely platinum. He turned his attention to the parchment and noticed that his name was written across the top in tiny scrawl, Sirius' handwriting.

**Harry  
**  
_I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of stocking your new home with everything you'd need. It might seem that I went a little overboard, but if you're reading this then... well, I won't be around to properly show this off and then show you off after you're dressed in the finest that the world has to offer. I have to say though that I was looking forward to imparting all my worldly knowledge of carnal secrets that would have had the witches lined up around the block for you, hell I was even going to use you as part of my new pick-up scheme once you and I could go out on the town together. Don't dwell on it though, I'm dead and that means that I can see every naked witch I want to until eternity ends... so what I'm trying to say is that it sucks to be you! Sorry, sorry, just trying to have a good time, and you can bet that I am! If you haven't already explored the third floor I suggest you do so.  
  
Love, _

_Sirius Black.  
_  
'_Did Sirius prepare for **everything**?_' Harry asked himself.  
  
Harry placed the letter on top of the cabinetry, closed the door, and turned to find something to wear. He ended up settling for a pair of black silk pajama bottoms only. Not knowing the climate here or what it would turn to at night, and knowing that there was no one else here, save for Tory, Harry didn't feel self conscious about walking around with a shirt on.  
  
The grumbling in his stomach alerted him to the fact that he had not eaten since this afternoon and it was no drawing on eight at night. He once again asked for Tory.  
  
POP!  
  
"Yes, sir?" Tory asked, still not using his first name.  
  
"Hello Tory, can I get something for supper please?" Harry asked.  
  
"Of course sir," Tory said, but as she was about to pop out and prepare his food and then pop back Harry stopped her.  
  
"Do you think that it could be sent to the room where my father's portrait hangs?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"Yes sir, It will be there waiting for you, is there something in particular that you would like to have prepared for you?" she asked.  
  
"I trust whatever you prepare will be more than delicious Tory," Harry said smiling at her.  
  
He had failed to notice before that Tory was dressed in a tiny yellow dress, with a dishcloth tucked inside her waist band.  
  
"Tory? Are you a free elf?" Harry asked hopefully, while kneeling down to face Tory face to face.  
  
"Of course sir, I have been free since Master James took up living in the Potter Manor," she stated as if this were clearly obvious.  
  
"Oh, if you're free then why did you refer to my father and master, and me for that matter?" Harry asked confused.  
  
"I beg your pardon sir, it is simply a sign of respect for the master of the manor, no insult was meant to be made, I'm sorry sir," Tory said looking a little upset that she had made a mistake of some sort.  
  
"No, no, its quite alright, you didn't insult me, I was just confused, this just means that I won't have to be the one responsible for trying to get you to accept freedom," Harry said slightly smiling.  
  
Tory beamed at him, "yes, sir, Master James had a very difficult time of convincing Tory to accept clothes sir, but payment she is still refusing to take, Tory is more than happy to serve the Potter Family. Master James also allowed me to use the library at will, is this still an acceptable arrangement?" Tory asked tentatively.  
  
"I don't see why it shouldn't be, you know more about this home and my family than I do, just please don't refer to me as master again," Harry stated.  
  
Tory was happy to be continuing on the same way as before, and did not mind never having to use the term master again, it did not necessarily bother her to use, and it was simply a remainder of her former enslavement. And now that she was experiencing and enjoying freedom for so many years, she was all to willing to forget her past enslavement.  
  
"Your supper will be waiting for you when you reach your father's portrait room... Harry," Tory said, testing out the use of Harry's given name.  
  
"Thank-you Tory," Harry said smiling and not missing her using his given name. He stood back on his feet, Tory popped out of the room and he attempted to find his way back to the '_training room_' as he called it.  
  
After getting lost once, he was sure that there was more to the manor than met the eye, he finally made it to the third floor and entered the training room to find it no larger than an elegant sitting room with a fire roaring and the portrait of his family was engaged in an animated conversation with Sirius.  
  
"A horntail, you say? My son did that?" James asked Sirius not noticing that Harry had entered the room, stealthily but there none the less.  
  
"Well, he did it with the Firebolt that I sent him," Sirius said pointing out that he had helped some.  
  
They both began to laugh with pride over one of Harry's accomplishments, that had not ended up being a truly life threatening endeavor. Sure it was a dragon, and he could of seriously been injured, but at least there had been wranglers there and an entire slew of healers on hand in case something had happened- something that was not a given with everything Harry did. He then stepped quietly through the room and sat down and on a plush sofa, and tucked into the chicken dish that Tory had prepared. Breaded chicken breast covered with some sort of provolone cheese, slightly stronger than what he was used to when preparing the Dursley's meals, sitting on top of pasta and smeared with an Italian tomato sauce. Harry was slightly pleased with himself that he had acquired a sense of culinary art while learning to cook for the Dursley's. Petunia had never instructed him on how to do anything, she simply sent him to the market with the list of groceries and then propped one of many cook books she possessed in front of him, and expected their meal in an hour and a half. His skills with a knife and ingredients were probably the only thing besides Hermione that had kept him afloat in Potions.  
  
'_SNAPE!_' Harry thought when he touched on his memory of Potions class.  
  
But as just as soon as the hatred over his professor came, it was swept aside, and he continued to eat his meal in peace, happy to overhear his father and Sirius discuss their past and Harry. He had the thought to interrupt once or twice over the course of his meal to correct something that wasn't exactly correct, but their laughter and pride seemed to make the complete truth meaningless right now. His training with Silus in Occlumency and Legilimency would sure to shed light on anything they had questions, and with James Portrait being responsible for the bulk of training he would surely be conversing with Silus and finding out about Harry's progress and anything that needed to be discussed in detail.  
  
Harry finished his meal, set his fork down on the plate, and reached for his half finished butterbeer. As his fork hit the place, the entire platter vanished. He assumed that Tory must have been either in the room or sensing his completion and contentment. And as he brought the butterbeer to his lips, James and Sirius finally noticed that he was in the room, or so he thought.  
  
James and Sirius had been aware of Harry being there from the moment he walked in and started listening in on their conversation. But both of them had agreed that Harry needed to be made aware that both of them were proud of him and happy for him before tomorrows events, so they carried only with Sirius explaining everything that everyone had told him about Harry since he had left for Hogwarts, expertly not mentioning anything before hand or any of the particularly dreadful summers he spent away from his school. And when Harry finished his meal and brought the bottle of butterbeer to his lips both James and Sirius turned their attention to him.  
  
"Enjoy that, it'll be the last one for some time," James said to Harry.  
  
"Huh?" Harry asked in reply.  
  
"That's the last of your comfort food, tomorrow you start on a strict diet, and you will eat for energy, not pleasure, and what you are drinking right now falls into the category of comfort food. You will be restricted to either water or pumpkin juice for beverages, and Tory will see to preparing a diet that will fit with your training," James said.  
  
Harry just stared at his father.  
  
James then let a smile creep across his face and changed the subject quickly, "So what have you been doing today, get a good look at the manor?"  
  
"Uhm... uh not really, I spent almost all of the time since I left here this afternoon in the library working on something a goblin named Blatak gave me, then I asked Tory to show me to my room so I could shower and change. By the way Sirius, you went a little way too overboard with everything that's in, I don't even know how to pronounce some of the names on those suits or shoe boxes," Harry stated, still letting his father's first remark about nutrition sink in, but knowing that the subject was changed for an all too good reason.  
  
Sirius just beamed, and looked to James and then they both looked at Harry as if in unison to say, "Can't have our heir looking anything less that what he is, now can we?"  
  
Then James cut in, "and we will rectify your inability with languages, that you'll find will probably be the easiest part of your training over the summer."  
  
"Uhm, can I ask which languages I'll be learning?" Harry asked.  
  
"Sorry, I told you earlier that you weren't allowed to ask question about tomorrow or training, but I never said anything about me giving you subtle hints did I?" James said and asked at the same time.  
  
"We will also have to do something about your ability to articulate yourself Harry, this uhm and uh business would have driven your mother up the walls and her having you writing essays and reciting them everyone we knew," James said with a slight chuckle.  
  
Harry was upset to hear that his speech abilities would have been an insult to his mother, but was happy none the less to hear his father talk about her, and he couldn't help but ask, "What was mum like?"  
  
The portrait of James Potter didn't even think before he replied, "GORGEOUS! INCREDIBLY INTELLIGENT, TOO STUBBORN FOR HER OWN GOOD..." the smile on Jame's face reached his eyes before continuing, "she was also dumb enough to fall in love with me and for that I'll never be able to truly tell her how greatly I am, or rather this version of me won't be able to, I'm sure the dead version of me says it everyday like I used to when I was alive. Fiery red hair, eyes that were even a brighter shade of green that your, but I have to say that even though you're my son I'm partial of Lily's, soft skin, a body to die for, and her lips were so soft..."  
  
Harry cut him off.  
  
"HEY! C'mon you may have been married to my mum, but she's still my mum and there are some things that I don't need to hear, even I'll admit that, and hearing about my mum's body and her soft lips..." Harry couldn't go own, he cringed softly.  
  
Sirius fell over in the portrait and was rolling around on the landscape clutching sides and howling in laughter. He'd stop for a second look between James and Harry, point at James red face and then start laughing hysterically again.  
  
Harry didn't know that it was possible for a wizard portrait to blush or even show as much emotion as Sirius was blatantly expressing at that moment, but he couldn't help but grin at his fathers beet red face before he too pointed at him, and started laughing at the hilarity of the entire situation.  
  
The portrait of James started laughing himself before he said, "You know Sirius, Lily is probably somewhere with me right now and beating me while laughing her arse off at this."  
  
In between his fits of laughter Sirius tried to say, "sure, but I'm sure the dead you is having a ball with all of this going on. I mean you're the portrait you, he's the dead you, its quite a strange way to talk about yourself isn't it, the dead me and the me here and Lily there beating the dead you and laughing while the portrait you is here talking about your wife and Harry's mum having a gorgeous body and lips so smooth, oh wait, I've gone cross-eyed," Sirius said between finally sitting up and laughing again.  
  
"Ok, I'll just say that your mum and my wife was great Harry, it's awful that you had to miss out on her," James said pointedly.  
  
Once the laughter and chuckling died down, Harry moved to one of the chairs in front of the portrait of his fathers and Harry, James and Sirius started talking about Harry's days at school, the first meeting between Harry and Sirius and helping him escape, fully covering the events of his fourth year, which Harry was surprised that once he got to Cedric's death he was dealing with it surprisingly well. Then fifth year, the Dementors, Umbridge, and finally the ministry and what happened to Sirius. Sirius told Harry it wasn't his fault, and Harry was only allowing himself to accept a piece of the blame now.  
  
Harry was now down telling his stories about his trials as he referred to them instead of adventures, since he was never actually willing to seek them out, he just got landed with the responsibility because of his fate. He had spoken lightly of Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the rest of the Weasley's, and his Quidditch career so far, and his lifetime ban that had been enacted last year. All of his troubles with certain Slytherin's, which James informed Harry that it was a school boy rivalry instead of an adversarial bout as Draco Malfoy no doubt thought of it. But it was also said that Harry would no longer tolerate it, and when the situation arose he would deal with it accordingly. Sirius mentioned all of Fudge's actions in the ministry, and both he and James engaged in a political conversation with aspects, terms and references that Harry could not comprehend.  
  
By the time the political debate about what Fudge should have done, and what he should possibly do now, it was nearing on ten at night, and James was looking pointedly at Harry, "Your time is up here tonight Harry, I will see you in the morning."  
  
Harry had never received such a blatant dismissal, and one from the portrait of his father confused him. He had expected this man to have at least a small contingent of passion, well enough to say good-night. And as Harry rose and made to leave the room, James and Sirius called to his back, "Good-night Harry!"  
  
Harry turned slightly and looked confused at both men, until Sirius spoke, "We're not heartless, but confusing you is so much fun."  
  
Harry gave a slight grin, and felt slightly less confused about the lack of sentiment he received from his dismissal. He opened the door and walked back to his room, trying to figure out for himself what would happen to him the rest of the summer. Had he possession of all of his emotions he was sure that the most prominent would have been fear, but as it was all Harry could do was calmly explore the situation in his mind, and that was much better than wallowing in fear over what would happen tomorrow he thought.  
  
Falling back into his bed, he paid not attention at how it formed to his body and pulled him in comfortable, he simply drifted off to sleep, and when his eyes closed the fire that had been started in his room by Tory earlier that even was extinguished leaving the entire room in darkness.

* * *

After Tonks had left the kitchen in search of Remus the feeling that things were about to take a turn for the worse only intensified. The meeting had left many of the members pleased with the current situation, but none of them had stayed to see Snape's usual stoic demeanor change to apprehension, or to see what had transpired between Albus and Remus and Dumbledore's resulting silent emotional outburst. She knew the story with Harry was falsified, and she worried for his safety, even if everyone believed that he was well taken care of.  
  
Remus was no where in Grimmauld Place to be found, and she didn't know where his own home was so she did the only thing she could at the point, she apparated to her own flat in downtown muggle London. Her duties as an Auror were temporarily on hiatus while the ministry gave her time off to see to time for grieving over Sirius, since she had been the only ministry employee that was related to him. Tonks had never been close to Sirius having attended Hogwarts after he had left already, she had only been privy to second and third hand accounts from upper level students passing on the stories of the pranks he and his mates had pulled off. But even after he had escaped from Azkaban and she'd be inducted into the order and made aware of Sirius' innocence she was never close to him, the one that was close to Sirius was her mother Andromeda, Sirius' only cousin that didn't turn to Voldemort.  
  
Once back in her flat she left the lights out, and went straight the muggle refrigerator she owned, opened the freezer down and pulled a bottle of vanilla vodka and poured herself and fair glass. Leaving the bottle on the stainless steel counter in her kitchen she went to her bedroom and sat on the edge of her queen size mattress.  
  
'_What's **really** happening? Is it best that I don't know?_' she asked herself as she took a gulp of vodka and held a steadfast face at the taste.  
  
'_I need to get laid,_' she thought as she placed the now empty glass on her bedside table and forced herself to sleep.

* * *

Remus Lupin, this having been the only time in his life, and being one of the few men in existence to have ever been the one to have dismissed Albus Dumbledore, was both pleased and frightened with himself. On one hand he knew that Harry was safe and that whatever was happening to him was for the best, he was sure of that. On the other, Harry and Sirius and subsequently with Remus' confirmation of Sirius letter they had all broken Albus Dumbledore's will, if only temporarily. This wasn't an accomplishment, but it wasn't shameful either. Too often had Dumbledore acted without the full consent of others, instead making the action that he thought best to secure a positive outcome. He had for too long thought that intentions were simply enough, never fully looking beyond them and expecting the best. Well he knew now thanks to Sirius and Remus' ability to impress Harry's stolen memories into that letter, something that he was going to have to explain to Harry if and when the headmaster chose to show the letter to Harry, and that was an experience that he dreaded completely.  
  
He was curious to know if Harry would contact him sometime to ask his assistance, surely he would need some sort of a real instructor. Remus was aware that where Harry was he would receive instruction and training on a wide variety of subjects, but which he did not know, and from Albus' Legilimency probe he knew it was best that he did not know right now. But who was training him he thought, if someone else knew where he was then there was a risk, a risk that surely should not be taken, what had James left for Harry, what did more did Sirius know about James that he himself had not been allowed knowledge of. He wasn't resentful at his friends not telling him, it was a secret, and even telling Sirius was a risk, but seeing as he was now beyond the veil a multitude of questions kept coming to Remus Lupin. Questions that he did not want to ponder is Sirius' or Harry's home, so once he made it to the drawing room and saw that all the order members save for Mad-Eye had apparated out to their posts or other vocations for the evening he apparated to his flat in Manchester. The questions he had would go unanswered, but at least in the privacy of his own home he could speculate without the threat of being overheard. What he did not know, was that Dumbledore was unwilling to let Harry go right now, no matter how well protected he believed himself to be, and that Remus Lupin as well as most other order members homes were being watched with what were called 'occlus'. These tiny black marble like objects recorded image and sound and transferred all collected information to a bank of pensieve's Albus kept under lock in his private study at Hogwarts. Dumbledore was sure that Harry would be safe in the care of the order where he too could receive training and instruction of a different sort, and was willing to go through lengths others thought were not possible for the old wizard to retrieve him.  
  
Remus did not know he was being watched, neither did the other order members, save Moody, who confronted Dumbledore with his findings and was only slightly amused with the answer he received about them being a regrettable necessity. So in the comfort of his flat, Remus started to pace and speak to himself about the different possibilities as to where Harry might be and what he was doing. Luckily for him, it was all wild speculation since neither James nor Sirius ever really said anything beyond vague hints, and all the operational knowledge of Harry's whereabouts Dumbledore had to work with was a certain feeling that he was under the Fidelius charm somewhere receiving intensive training.  
  
Dumbledore stepped back from the pensieve that monitored Remus and made his way over to a chair in front of the fireplace. This was only the second day of the summer holiday he thought to himself yet again, and so much has happened. Albus' resolve had returned him once more and he was no longer the vision of a broken old man, he did not sleep that night, he instead stared at the fire and made plans for the future. It was an overly cinematic picture to anyone that would have stood at the door to the headmaster's office. An old, beyond graying and now shiny white beard and hair, sat staring at the roaring fire in his office that radiated no heat. Shadows danced on the walls of the office, and reflected of some of the obscure objects that had been repaired after Harry destroyed them the prior week. The sense of the whole room was one of fierce determination, however misguided it might be, it was still a sight to see, and Minerva McGonagall in her cat animagus would have wept at the scene had her animal tear ducts performed the same as a humans. Instead she softly padded her way back down the stairs, away from the gargoyle guardian, transformed back into her human form, dabbed at her eyes to stem the tears and headed for her own personal quarters in the staff wing. 


	6. Progress Assessment

**Progress Report:**  
  
Harry Potter was seated in the 'lotus' position in front of the portrait of Silus Potter. He was organizing his memories of what had happened throughout the day; in the room found on the third floor in the west wing, fifth door on the right. His eyes closed, and his mind completely shut off from the rest of the world there he sat. He had been in this position for the better half of the day since his father had dismissed him at four in the afternoon; which was a rather short training session with his father.

Today had been his first progress assessment, and if he was being honest with himself... he had yet to see the results of the intensive regimen he had subjected himself to. That was, of course, until he entered the training room at half past twelve.

He had grown accustomed to making sure that his father's somewhat solid projection had already been cast, the room expandeded as necessary and stocked with the basics for his training before he even grasped the handle and stepped over the threshold. More often than not, James Potter's projection was waiting, bokken or shinai in hand ready to test his son's abilities without warning.

Harry's advancement with wandless magic to his personal embarrassment had not reached past summoning and banishing objects at will now. The gift that his father and the manor provided him, and under Silus' tutelage Harry had pushed his mind further than he imagined it would go. It was then that he was informed by Silus that this was simply the first step- but then reassured after he picked himself up off the floor from shock, that by the end of this summer he would be able to more than sufficiently defend himself from the most prominent users of Legilimency.

With his abilities in summoning now being sufficiently put to use and tested, Harry was able to walk into the training room and summon his own oak bokken, and try to halt his father's assault. This was proving to save his body greatly. His bokken that he had been instructed to create on his own, by going into the forest behind the manor, now permanently resided in the training room. For the first week, his father would offer advice on how to defend himself while attacking him. His father would attack while calling out the sequence of strikes/blocks/foot-movements he was required to make; and then instruct Harry to perform the same action towards him. Harry was not the quickest learner when it came to sword play, and he paid with the endless bruises that lined his upper arms, chest, abdomen and back  
  
The start his day would be a wake-up call, albeit it a very controlled and suggestive wake-up instead of an ordered one- he still could not figure this puzzle out, he assumed it had something to do with a test for personal motivation; but that early in the morning he was lucky to even register it has some significance behind it. Then he would change into his work-out clothes, silver coloured nylon shorts, a black sleeveless t- shirt and an ordinary pair of white trainers.

Training would start in the with his normal circuit, if you could call 4 miles on a treadmill at a speed that he could not guess, followed by sets on the free weights that alternated daily to affect certain muscle groups one at a time, and not cause his body to burn out by focusing on one specific group normal. Thirty minutes for a shower and breakfast. Followed by his personal study session, then the practical lesson and tutelage ensued when he met his father after that. Harry had been told that his goal with his circuit training in the morning was not to develop much strength, right now he required tone and flexibility, and strength would follow once he honed his body first.  
  
His five hour study block between his circuit training and his practical lessons in the afternoons, he devoted to expanding his knowledge of topics that he already had the basis for understanding and exploring other topics that he had never taken the time to actual learn about out.

With his occlumency abilities allowing him to organize his mind in a much more efficient manner than a normal 15 year old, Harry was now devouring every book in his library at a rate that would have put Hermione Granger to shame. He was building a mental encyclopedia, or that's how he referred to it. Harry was able to read about a spell, understand the theory behind, thanks to his fathers insistence that he study the theory of magic first and foremost- this advice had proved to be invaluable.

His understanding now went beyond the notion that a wand simply focused a persons raw magic. He understood now with the help of a few obscure and ancient texts in the library that if the raw magic that a wizard or witch possessed was properly harnessed and trained beyond the use of a wand, then the wizard or witches ability to perform spells would be enhanced by at least ten fold.

Harry equated raw magic to another muscle of his being that needed to be trained. The magic was always there and accessible but with proper molding the possibilities for advancement were insane, to say the least.

Accidental magic performed by scared children that had no training to control themselves, was simply raw magic manifesting itself; using the person as a catalyst instead of a wand that could properly direct it. The inference that Harry took from all his reading on the topic of raw magic and wandless magic was that it was possible- to an extent- with enough focus to achieve the level of control equal to that of a full grown wizard with a wand... without the use of one. This discovery was one that made Harry's head ache severely and wish that Hermione would appear from around the stacks so she could beat it into his head the proper meaning.

The magic that he was studying from Blatak's book was coming along well. But Harry had read it cover to cover to explore what he needed to learn now and what he could learn at leisure later. The book made no mention beyond a few hexes and curses that anything more could be achieved without a focus of some sort, but the important message that was left out and that Harry did not see was that the book did not say that it could not be expanded for more magic. Harry had chalked it up to this being a goblin's limitations with magic and not a rule set in stone.

He studied medicinal magic, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Potions with fervor, Herbology, Transfiguration- which was his second favorite subject to study, all manner of defensive and offensive magic texts, French, Castilian Spanish- without a lisp, German, Italian and Russian. The languages he quickly learned in a little over a week, he didn't know why, but he assumed that it had something to do with the manor again- which he was sure of it after the second week of living in the manor that it was alive.  
  
Harry would find himself heading back to his bedroom and somehow end up walking the opposite direction he was before and on a different floor. The manor was directing him anywhere it deemed he should be. He was sure of that when he decided to see if the house was leading him somewhere that he needed to see, but had yet to find anything of significance.

He was grateful for the home as he was able to talk to the different portraits in the evening and learn more than he wanted to about his family's past. Where the originated, when they settled here; wherever here was because Harry had yet to ask where he was in England. If he was in England he wondered.

Tory was a lifesaver. After finding him passed out from exhaustion on a few nights she would make it so he would find himself waking up in bed the next morning feeling rested. Unlike his father had warned about being found out of his bed past ten fifteen, he was thankful for Tory's interference as he was sure now that he wouldn't live through the hell that would surely be the day that he received no sleep.  
  
Today was July 24th, a little more than a month after Harry had arrived at the manor, and he was prepared for his _'examination'_ this afternoon. His first progress report was sure to be something of a bench mark to gauge his training for the remaining month and a half before returning to the wizarding world. He was dressed in slightly baggy black khaki cargo paints held up by a grey belt with simple double loop metal gate, and an almost form fitting black t-shirt.

His circuit training was showing now, and he was proud of the apparent progress he had made in developing his body. Harry was no longer by any means skinny, nor short. Harry had hit a growth spurt and now stood a hair under six foot tall, with his chest defined, as well as his back and his arms no longer skinny but clearly defined that only enhanced showing off the muscle he had put on.

His hair he had let grow in a tribute to Sirius and it was tied in a tail with one of the clasps that Sirius had provided for him in his wardrobe. His glasses were no where to be seen and his blazing emerald green eyes were prominently displayed on his now proud face; although he carried a case with a spare set for emergencies- he had learned the hard way the first day of his third week at the manor when he failed to react quick enough and his father bokken smashed his glasses and broke his nose. Thankfully his healing studies paid off (the only thing he regretted about healing himself was having to realign the bridge of his nose, and the sound the broken cartilage made when he did this was something he was sure would never been forgotten).

Harry looked every bit as calm and collected as he truly was inside his mind. The boy-who-lived was turning into a man, slowly but surely and his confidence was also slowly making up lost ground.

He stepped threw the door to the training room and instinctively raised his hand and summoned his bokken. Then he heard his father's voice and prepared to defend himself.  
  
"There will be no need for that today," the projected voice of James said, staring at Harry with his arms across his chest.  
  
Harry was quick to realize this was going to be a test pure and simple; there was no sense of paternity here.  
  
"Appele le fusil et détruis la cible a la fin de la gamme," James said.  
  
Harry didn't even respond his simply did as instructed; standing from 850 meters back, Harry aimed the Russian made SV-8, breathed in deeply, exhaled and pulled the trigger. He watched through the scope lens as the tiny apple was obliterated with the force of the bullet hitting it.  
  
"Le pistolet," James said nodding his head in the direction of the supply table.  
  
Harry sent the rifle back to the table and summoned the black porcelain pistol, and provided his father with another piece of fruit, hoping that he was guessing correctly, and took his stance once he held the pistol in both hands and was sure that it was loaded properly.  
  
The projection of James seemed pleased that Harry was able to figure out what was going to be asked of him next, so seeing no need to wait; threw the apple high into the air.  
  
Harry took aim, fired once and destroyed the apple, and assumed that he had finished this test, but before he lowered the pistol he heard...  
  
"WEIDER!"  
  
Harry didn't fully understood but he complied anyway, raising the pistol once more and took aim at the pieces of apple falling through the air and choice the highest piece still in the air, and pulled the trigger once more, feeling the slight recoil in his arms. He could even sense the bullet rifling through the barrel and tracing its way through the training room overhead and colliding with a piece of the already destroyed second apple.  
  
The projection of James had expected this, he knew that Harry was capable of more than what he had been showing in the past weeks, he was holding back, but today seemed different, if any day truly seemed different to a portrait. Jame's could see that Harry was carrying himself much more confidently day, this was a changing boy he saw, and the projection of James Potter felt a twinge of pride and regret, but pushed both aside.  
  
"§ç§à§â§à§ê§à §'§Ö§Ý§§ß§ß§í§Û! §ç§à§â§à§ê§à §'§Ö§Ý§Ñ§ß§ß§í§Û!" James said.  
  
"Grazie," Harry said flatly. He was still confused not only by the second task, but also by the fact that besides the pistol in his hands and the rifle on the table, there were only two other weapons in the room, and those were one daito and one rapier.  
  
The test turned into a full fledged battle at the moment that Harry returned the pistol the table collected and unsheathed his daito and tossed to the projection of his father a recreation of his own rapier that was stored in the master bedroom on the same floor.  
  
The projection of James virtually laid into Harry. Attacking him with unending endurance, incredible speed, and with strength twice what Harry currently possessed- all of which Harry knowingly provided.

* * *

Harry left the training one that day in tattered garments, a now healing cheek flesh wound, another on his left forearm, a long strip had been cut across his chest- but that had been the first that Harry had been able to heal, his jaw still hurt like hell from where his father had jabbed him with the cage of the rapier's grip, his khakis were shredded around the shins, but thankfully the blade did not make contact with his skin. Even with healing himself it still took at least a day for the healing to fully set in and that would have made tomorrow's morning run more than a little painful. He lost no eyes, no fingers, and no limbs so all in all it had been an ok battle at first, and then he started asking the room to start throwing things at the both of them while they fought, and admittedly Harry wanted to test his own boundaries. But this had been, well to lessen the sting of calling himself stupid, he called it a 'learning experience'. Holding his daito in his left hand and his wand in his right- turned out to be the result for his loss of the battle, sure he literally disarmed the projection of his father by severing his left arm and focusing on not giving it back, but using his left hand to defend himself from a sword attack and his right hand to use almost all of the spells he knew, to simply state... Harry had not progressed far enough to show proficiency at this type of dueling. And he was contemplating switching to a rapier himself next time to see if the one handed grip made it easier on his wand hand. He used his new found talent for transfiguration on the pieces of furniture that started to fly at him early in the battle into plants and animals, and that was another learning experience for him as well. He was engaged in a sword fight and mental battle with the projection of his father- which was emitting absolutely zero emotion, only fierce determination in his eyes was where you found an ounce of emotion. He willingly asked the room to attack both him and the projection with a random slew of objects to test the boundaries of his transfigurative, defensive and offensive abilities. He was also fighting a mental battle to keep himself from stopping the objects from flying at him by asking the room to stop and banish them before they got anywhere close. Harry who was pushing his use of apparition since he had only started to use that skill this week had no choice however with the projection of James having free reign over physics. Harry was constantly apparating and disapparating out of the way of objects that got past his guard or the assault of his father. The fact that Sirius was watching from his painting and wincing whenever Harry was slashed, jabbed or hit with a flying piece of furniture, was not helping him either.

He knew that this was the object of today's assessment, to see how far he could push himself at this point and determine how to find a way to push him even further. But he knew already that he was going to require Remus to help him progress any further. Contacting him was the first thing that he intended to do now that he had _**'finished'**_ his assessment test. Sirius had looked on in awe when Harry walked back to the table, sheathed his daito and asked how he did; to which the one armed James informed him with a smirk that he would receive his progress report tomorrow morning.  
  
Since Harry had been dismissed much earlier than was usually for his practical training with his father, he resigned himself to getting cleaned up first and then apparating to Remus' home in Manchester. Sirius had told him how to get there about a week ago, but Remus wasn't going to be able to apparate into the manner unless Harry told him how to find it; and he wasn't ready to do that yet so he tried researching portkey creation/programming and found only sparse information that he couldn't piece together on his own. With his father's and Sirius' help however he easily found out how to turn an everyday object into a one way, roundtrip or multiple use portkey.  
  
_'So much for ministry restricted information,'_ Harry thought.  
  
When he thought of the ministry his thoughts instantly turned to what was occurring outside the manor. He had his hands full with training, but he couldn't help but be curious as to the state of things right now. Then he thought better of it and allowed himself to admit Dumbledore would continue leading his order in their damned attempts to simply watch and wait and defend.  
  
Harry showered and dressed much the same he had before he his father tore the clothes to pieces. His meager vanity came over him when he decided that he would keep the clothes he wore today and have them sewn back together, but make it blatantly apparent that there had once been gashes and cuts here and there. He decided that these would be what he wore through each of his trials here. This time however, instead of black khaki cargos he wore tan and a pair of black trainers. He didn't have an ounce of fashion sense he admitted to himself, but he also didn't think you could go wrong by sticking to two pretty dark colors.  
  
He turned to the cabinetry in his wardrobe and opened the middle drawer on the right side and fished out one his round trip portkey that looked was also a muggle platinum tie clip, then set it on the counter top.  
  
He then removed a black robe from one of the hangers and draped it over himself completely covering himself. Harry wasn't about to put it past Albus Dumbledore to have some sort of surveillance on order members homes. That was something he did not need his father to tell him. So taking one last look in the mirror to make sure that he was hidden in the shadows of his robes he picked up the portkey again and said, "Moony."

* * *

**Authors Note:** Sorry, but I was just into actually getting this posted that I didn't put a complete disclaimer on this story. I was incredibly inspired by RossWrock's 'Power of Time' and sought out his permission for those few similarities i.e. 'Magical Muscle, Escape to Diagon Alley and the Potter Family Vault- although i know many authors have used this idea', also Full Pensieve's 'Year of Rebellion' for the idea of Harry's emancipation. I highly recommend that anyone reading this read those two first; not as a prerequisite, but to show that I am nowhere their level of writing and creativity and thats where i aspire to be in the world of fanfiction- and so you guys don't think that I'm a prick and stealing other people's ideas without permission.


	7. Reunion

**Reunion:**  
  
Resigning to the fact that he would never get used to the sensation of portkey travel he waited with slight apprehension for the tug behind his navel, and then, he was gone and standing in the living room of Remus Lupin's flat.  
  
Remus Lupin, not having expected anybody today and certainly not someone shrouded in a black cloak had his wand out and aimed it at the figure.  
  
"Put that away would you?" Harry asked.  
  
"Har.." Remus tried to get out.  
  
"Shhh, I'm pretty sure you're being watched here," Harry stated.  
  
"Is that you?" Remus said, still not lowering his wand.  
  
"Cast '_lumos_' and look under my hood, I'm not about to reveal myself here," Harry said coolly.  
  
Remus did just that, but it wasn't the Harry he was used to seeing and that made him a little worried about all of this.  
  
"You've changed," Remus stated, his wand still raised.  
  
"Come on Professor, I'll explain everything, just take this," Harry said while holding out the portkey.  
  
The professor remark sealed it for Remus Lupin and he was sure that this was Harry Potter. Looking around the room before reaching out for the portkey Remus said to no one in particular, "Albus, if you are watching me, or any of us..." then he just stopped and shook his head, turned back to face a robed Harry who was wearing a wide grin, held the portkey and waited for Harry to said the word.  
  
"Moony."  
  
Remus had to smile when he heard his marauder nick name used as the trigger for this portkey, and then the smile faded as he too felt the pull and they both vanished.  
  
The roundtrip portkey had not worked as properly as Harry would have liked it too. He had programmed it so he would leave the manner from his wardrobe and return to the same place. Instead they arrived on the landing at the top of the stairs leading to the second floor. Remus stumbled back, and Harry only barely managed to remain steadfast.  
  
Harry threw back his hood and stepped forward to Remus and grasped his hand before he toppled backward from his stumbling and landed on his arse.  
  
"Thanks. It's good to see you Harry," Remus said his voice dripping with affection.  
  
Harry used the grip he still had on Remus' hand and pulled him into a one arm hug before Remus could do the same, and told him how happy he was to see him and how well he looked for it being so soon after the full moon.  
  
Remus smiled, "A certain potions master is being extra cautious at the advice of your headmaster and has seen fit to enhance the properties of my usual Wolfsbane potion. Makes the transformation even easier for me and makes the wolf more docile. Even has me up and ready to return to life in a day."  
  
"That's good to hear, but you should find out how to brew the potion for yourself soon," Harry said grinning maliciously.  
  
Remus smiled as well as said, "I suppose I should."  
  
However Remus knew that it actually took a Potion Master to properly brew 'Wolfsbane', it was not the everyday witch or wizard that could perform this task; and he had been one to try.  
  
"So, are you going to tell me where we are and why you brought me here, hmm?" Remus asked.  
  
"I'll answer the second, only because I only know the answer to the second. I still don't know where I am or where I've been for the past month besides knowing that I've been _**here**_," Harry said trying not to laugh.  
  
"I see," Remus said still smiling. He found it a little odd that he was now eye to eye Harry Potter.  
  
And that this version without the glasses, without the gaunt features and sallow look, exuded confidence and power. Remus was starting to ask himself how powerful Harry could have gotten in the time-span of one month, but thought better of just asking outright and waited with happy patience for when Harry would either tell him or demonstrate.  
  
"I can tell you that we are in Potter Manor, wherever the bloody hell that is! But that's as much as I know about the location of my own home. As to the reason I asked you to come here, or rather told you to come with me, I'd like to ask for your help with my training," Harry stated merrily.  
  
"Oh, well you look to be getting on alright with yourself at the moment, why do you need me?" Remus simply asked playing coy.  
  
"One, to take advantage of your mind, two you're a werewolf and training myself against someone with your kind of strength is a skill that I can not go without, and thirdly I'd actually like to have you around, and have a human instructor."  
  
"Can't say no to you can I?" Remus said before fully digesting everything Harry had said he wanted from him.  
  
'_Human instructor?_' Remus asked himself.  
  
"Of course you can, if you don't want to be here I'll hand you another portkey and you can go back to Manchester and the order. If you want to stay and not help me that'd be excellent, but I'd like you help."  
  
"I am definitely not leaving, you can count on that. But as to helping you I'd have to see what you've done to yourself so far, and what do you mean when you say a human instructor?" Remus asked curiously.  
  
"Follow me, and I mean exactly what I say," Harry stated, slightly grinning, knowing that Remus would not believe what he was about to see.  
  
"Lead the way kind sir... you are the lord of the manner," Remus said with a mock bow.  
  
"You've been here for nigh on five minutes and you're already messing with me," Harry said chuckling before he turned and started leading the way.  
  
"It is my right now, my inheritance," Remus said smiling.  
  
"Fine, make fun of me now, but you'll get your comeuppance sooner than you think, and I am looking forward to the look on your face when you do," Harry said a little too confidently for Remus' like.  
  
They stopped at the door to the training room and Harry made sure that it didn't look anything more than a normal sitting room with a fireplace and furniture, put his hand on the gold handle, turned to Remus and said, "I hope you're going to enjoy this because I most definitely will."  
  
Remus swallowed and made an audible gulping sound that did nothing to hide his apprehension and only increase Harry's cool smile and teasing behavior, he was even more like his father now. The Harry he knew was still there, but there was now a lacing around at least part of him. Remus nodded to go ahead and open the door and made himself ready for some sort of prank ambush that might have been set up.  
  
They both walked into the room, and 10 feet in, close to the sofa, Remus jumped one hundred and eighty degrees to face directly behind him and then in succession ninety degree hops to cover all his sides, and seeing that there was no apparent threat and that Harry was simply standing there staring at him with open amusement he warily asked, "Where's the catch, I know you didn't just bring me in here to talk?"  
  
"Actually Moony, you could not have been more wrong, but the conversation will not be solely between you and I, there are two others that would like to speak with you. I'll be here at least for the beginning, but I have an appointment with an instructor one floor down, so I hope you won't be too disappointment when I slip out and leave you to fend for yourself," Harry stated mockingly, he was now blatantly using Remus' apprehension for this room against him and it was giving him a slight thrill. Something he hadn't experienced in a good while, even with Sirius' constant badgering that he should sneak out one of these nights and find a pub and some girl and shag her brains out, and Harry was tempted to do so until he saw the look of disbelief on his father's face at that remark. Sirius then countered that James and him used to do it all the time at Hogwarts, he'd go on and on about hopping on their brooms with Moony and taking off for an hour and landing in St. Ebbs and having a 'funky' time, until of course the portrait of James would grab Sirius by the lapels of his cloak and hoist him in the air forcing him to stop the regalling.  
  
"Sure, Harry," Remus said still eyeing the room and sniffing the air.  
  
Harry then mentally asked the room to project both his father and Sirius into the room directly behind Remus now.  
  
They stalked up behind Remus and both put their hands on his shoulders and pulled him back onto his lying flat on the ground on his shoulders secured in their grasp.  
  
"Isis Mooney you got old!" James nearly shouted at the shock of seeing his friend.  
  
"Hi Moony, sorry about dying last month," Sirius said smiling.  
  
"Wha... How... Huh... When... Huh?" Remus stammered out incoherently.  
  
"I do believe Remus that your articulation is even worse now than Harry's was when he first came here. Do I have you to thank for his poor education in the English language?" James mocked accusingly.  
  
"James, show the man some pity, he looks like he's about to pass out," Sirius said laughing at his friends current predicament.  
  
"Fine, but you really do look old Moony, you should have died like us," James said laughing but with a hint of seriousness in his voice.  
  
Giving in to the insanity of it all Remus looked at a younger version of James, and then Sirius, and said, "What, and leave Harry to fend for himself?"  
  
The projections of James and Sirius looked at each other, smiled, then looked at Remus snorted and then looked to Harry who was watching all of this with great amusement, then they both said, "Looks like he's doing pretty well without you at the moment."  
  
"Geroff!" Remus said, and then moved to pushed the two men off and found that they were transparent projections.  
  
The projections looked to Harry and asked accusingly, "What'd you do that for?"  
  
"You got to have your fun, and I got to have mine, see, just looked at how much more confused he is now," Harry said smiling and pointing to Remus who was now sitting up.  
  
James and Sirius both beamed proudly at Harry's new found cunning and appreciation for the Marauder sense of humor.  
  
"Well done," stated Sirius and now that Harry had asked the room to re- solidify the projections he patted him on the back lightly.  
  
"Yes, that's my boy," James stated happily. This was the first time that the portrait of James had ever made any kind of comment like that and Harry suddenly felt his heart start to beat a little faster at gaining even the portrait version of his father's acceptance.  
  
"Ok, someone needs to start explaining things to the friend that **didn't** die, and preferably before he does pass on," Remus said heartily, now coming into to fold slightly that this had all been planned. Even though it hadn't been planned at all Harry had just hoped that it would end up like this.  
  
James turned to Harry when Remus finished and said to him, "I believe you have a lesson with Silus soon, and you do not want to be late."  
  
Taking his cue for dismissal Harry said, "Yes sir," and promptly left the room for his training session with Silus.  
  
Before he left he turned and made sure that the room did not revert to an empty training hall, and that the projections were sent back to their portraits. Then he finally left the training room and went to meet Silus.  
  
Back inside the training room the three once separated best friends were now reunited and engaging animatedly on the topic of why Remus had simply refused to die and chosen to end up on a wall as well. There was a light teasing, a sense of happiness and from Remus most of all was a sense of subtle completion. Here they were again, James, Sirius and Remus and they were all discussing the state of the wizarding world politics, witches and wizards that they missed, and of course Harry's prophecy.  
  
"So what's Dumbledore been up to lately Remus," Sirius asked.  
  
"Well after he received your letter..."  
  
Sirius slightly winced at the memory of what he had put into it, and then thought everything justly deserved, just harshly served.  
  
"... and I confirmed that everything in the letter was true, he performed Legilimency on me."  
  
Both James and Sirius snorted and looked slightly amused.  
  
"I knew both of you knew that I didn't have anything beyond an idea as to what you really did, and where you disappeared to and what kind of training he was undergoing, and Dumbledore couldn't sift through idea's, just solid thoughts and memories. So thank-you James for not telling me anything, I'm still a little sore that you didn't... but I understand none the less I guess."  
  
"Sirius emancipating Harry sent the order into a kind of sudden stupor for a day; until Albus made up a story and fed it to most of the order members, and most of them swallowed it as well, save for Tonks, Snape and I. Tonks was pissed that Harry played her, Snape's afraid of what'll happen although he's doing his best to hide it..."  
  
They all looked at each other smiling at the thought of who they still considered Snivellus being frightened of a nearly 16 year old wizard.  
  
"... I've enjoyed almost every minute of this, save for the guilt..."  
  
"Oh tin it up Moony, you didn't have anything to do with what happened to me, the only two people here in the manor that get to carry around any guilt are Harry and I, although neither of us really deserves it, it was a mutual agreement of sorts. He thought he was saving me, I thought I was saving him- which he was and I was as well, I just ended up the one that needed it more, and I'm glad it was me and not him. So no more feeling sorry for yourself, you understand?"  
  
James watched the by play.  
  
Remus responded with, "It isn't that simple Paddy, but I understand what you're trying to say."  
  
"Hey, I am not trying to do anything, I am saying it," Sirius said indignantly.  
  
Remus and James looked at each other and started laughing over Sirius' scowling face. "The Minister of Magic, if appearances are to be believed is actually doing something useful and following what appears to be a standard protocol for a pre-war nation. If I were to wager, I'd bet that Dumbledore had something to do with Fudge's now constant progress in warning people and making preparations. The Death Eaters that were at the ministry last month were all tried and convicted, we had thought for a moment that without Harry's testimony that most of them would have walked, but with Fudge's sudden turn around everyone of them that was caught has been sentenced to serve between 15 years to life, and if you're wondering Sirius, Malfoy was the only one of them that was sentenced to a life term. Albus was the order member present at their hearings and he's so far refused to give details. And with the trials being closed to the press there isn't much information out there, other than the few rumors; but the things I've heard are highly doubtful to have come from a member of the Wizengamot. There have only been a handful of raids so far since Harry suddenly up and left, and that still isn't public knowledge, otherwise we're sure that the attacks he's staged in the past would pale in comparison to the havoc he would wreak right now. Harry's known friends, or those that were at the ministry were identified somehow by someone who infiltrated the hearing. Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger, Ron and Ginny Weasley were all summoned in, were there a need for them to testify- thankfully their presence was not required. But with whomever that had identified the kids; there were raids on the Weasley's and Granger's..."  
  
James and Sirius both looked on waiting for Remus to continue.  
  
"Hermione Granger's father was killed, and her mother seriously wounded before the order apparated to their home. The girl wasn't hurt and she's been transferred to a safe house for the time being, and her mother is at St. Mungo's... the prognosis is that she'll probably end up in the same ward as Longbottom's, only slightly more coherent that Alice..."  
  
All of their heads dropped when then remembered Frank and Alice, they deserved the utmost respect.  
  
"... the rest of the kids are with their families except for the Weasley's that seem to have taken up permanent residence at your place Sirius," Remus said flatly.  
  
"It's Harry's now and he wouldn't leave the people he considers to be his family out in the cold, you know that! So don't look at me like you're questioning me letting them stay there," Sirius said almost a little too forcefully.  
  
James placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder to calm him, and it seemed to work.  
  
Remus continued, "Albus has sparsely been seen. Other than the odd meeting where he shows up to collect information, he's doing something that none of us are informed of... and between us, I'm more than convinced he's looking for Harry."  
  
Sirius smiled at that looking to James, "No doubt he remembers what happened when he crossed you after a couple years after graduation!"  
  
"I'm pleased to have had the effect on him that was needed... but in retrospect it might have been done differently," James said without a hint of any kind of emotion.  
  
"If you say so Prongs," Sirius said, although he was still smiling.  
  
"Like I said before, no true sign of Voldemort just a few Dark Marks where his Death Eaters have been exercising their impatience," Remus wanted to vomit the moment he said that. Death Eaters exercising their impatience meant innocent muggles and muggle-born people being tortured and ending up dead.  
  
"That's one way to put it," James said raising his left eyebrow and looking a little stunned at what Remus had just said.  
  
"I'm sorry Prongs, it just, I've been having to be politically correct lately when it comes to talking about what's been happening and it just... well anyway, that's pretty much everything that has happened, besides Harry showing up in my flat looking like a Sith Lord and informing me that Dumbledore is more than likely watching all the order members in their homes- no shock really. That would explain a little as to why he never seems surprised by what we report to him, or why he always gives off the air that he knows everything before we say it."  
  
James and Sirius nodded in agreement at both Harry and Remus' assumption.  
  
They all stood as if it was an unspoken command and look from one to another, and then Remus broke the silence, "I've missed you both, I don't know if I can fully explain how much..."  
  
Their arms went to each others shoulders and they embraced in a kind of three way huddle, heads touch and eyes closed.  
  
James started to smile, and even through closed eyes and the fact that he was a projection of a portrait Remus could feel it, and James said, "Now you know where to find us at least." And they all startled chuckling lightly at the off hand comment.  
  
"So, what exactly has Harry been doing here," Remus quite seriously asked.  
  
"Training of course under my great tutelage," James said with the air of a King and turning his head up to strike a dramatically regal pose.  
  
"Stuff it James," Remus said laughing a little.  
  
"I keep trying to get him to become a man, but yours truly here has him under strict lock and key," Sirius said accusingly and shaking his head in the direction of James. "That is something that he does not need to deal with at the moment, you know exactly what is at stake here," James was pointing out.  
  
"Don't be so cinematic when you describe the situation James, please, I'm begging you," Sirius fell to his knees and with his hands clasped in front of him pretending to beg.  
  
"Gah, it's like being back in school all over again!" Remus said exasperated.  
  
"I don't see any professors here..." Sirius was looking around the room, "do you James?"  
  
"Only one and I'm looking at the turncoat right now," James said with a grin as he stared at Remus.  
  
"One year, one bloody year, and your son needed it," Remus pointed out quickly.  
  
"Settle down Moony, just having you on a bit," Sirius said trying to pacify his friend.  
  
"Will you please give me a straight answer James?" Remus asked quietly.  
  
"If I were to make an accurate assumption as to the level of wizard that Harry has reached I would say that he's a close to being at the level of an Unspeakable two years into training."  
  
"IN ONE MONTH, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAS BEEN GOING ON AROUND HERE!" Remus shouted.  
  
"Easy Moony, breathe in, breathe out..." Sirius was saying.  
  
"Harry seems to have an aptitude for learning and putting into practice the things he reads quicker than you can snap your fingers; its his confidence that is holding him back, and there just happens to be a list a kilometer long with names of those responsible for his lack of confidence and pride. You should have seen him yesterday, he's mastered a handful of languages, he makes mention of studying a goblin book- although he hasn't said yet as to how he can read Gobbledegook, and if he can read it I'm guessing he can speak it. His study of magic is incredible but he uses it so tentatively, if he would only open or break down that door that's holding him back, I would wager my portrait that he could duel Dumbledore and walk out with only a few scratches to show for it... well scratches and one hell of a tale! That is if he'd ever really open up about anything. The kid is incredible, and Lily just has to be the one responsible for that. You remember what I was like until I was little older than sixteen? I was arrogant, a git and prat all rolled into one. Sure I was proud of course, but Harry, after everything he's done in his life he has only a shred of pride in him, he's completely humble; and I'm been teaching him to drop that feeling when the time comes. For all his trouble he was sent back to the Dursley's every summer where what he's done means absolutely nothing. There's a sense of good in that so he doesn't think that he's more than he is, but he is more than what they and Dumbledore have made him. LOOK AT ME, I'M A BLEEDIN' MEMORY AND THAT KID MAKES ME WANT TO BREAK DOWN AND WEEP! Paddy thanks for going after Peter, after you know... no offense though, you should have been thinking of Harry. Why couldn't you have stopped being noble for one fucking night and make sure my son was better taken care of?" James said, it looked like he wanted to cry but was holding it back and showing contempt for the entire situation.  
  
For Remus this was a new development, he couldn't remember a moment after James came back from his own training and being an Unspeakable where he showed any emotion that wasn't positive.  
  
Sirius however did let a few tears out of his projected eyes, and hung his head in shame.  
  
"I don't blame you Sirius. I even respect you more for what you did, BUT PETER WILL DIE! AND BOTH OF US WILL HAVE _**MY SON**_ TO THANK FOR THAT!"  
  
They all nodded and silence enveloped the room.  
  
All of their heads were bowed, and each of them had their arms across their chests with a standing posture that was the exact same for each one of them. They truly were brothers reunited in a way.  
  
Remus was the one to break the silence again, "Why does Harry need me here?"  
  
"We are nothing more than projections of our portraits. This room is an actual perfect replica of the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts. Sirius and I are confined to all of the portraits in the house until we are in this room and Harry can ask for a corporeal version of us. At present Harry is progressing at an amazing rate, even if he doesn't see that himself, but in this room when we duel he only makes me twice as strong as he currently is, and that works to a point, but there will be a point where loses the mental battle and uses the rooms ability against me. I am also not completely solid, and therefore not suited to teaching him hand to hand defensive techniques, you can also help him with his personal studies and allow him to have someone to practice his Occlumency and Legilimency on..."  
  
Remus cut in, "Is that what Silus is doing, wasn't he your Great- Grandfather?"  
  
"... Yes he was, he is also the one who made Albus the master he is of Occlumency he is today, and Dumbledore passed that skill and Legilimency onto Tom Riddle. So who better than the original master to instruct him."  
  
"But, I'm sorry for saying this, if the portrait is not in this room what good is Silus as an instructor unless he is able to probe Harry's mind and test him, in order to find his weaknesses and develop his defenses?" Remus asked.  
  
"Moony you will find that this manor is more than a simple home," James replied flatly, "You have kept up with your fighting haven't you?"  
  
"Yes, but it is not often that I can find someone willing to spar, considering what I am," Remus remarked sadly.  
  
"That is exactly why you are here, I don't expect Harry to be able to take you on hand to hand, but if he is able to defend himself aptly against you, that is a step in the right direction. And Harry is aware of this all already, so don't worry about hurting him, he's become quite a healer," James said proudly at the last statement.  
  
"Oh," Remus said simply, "Should I go find him so we can discuss this?"  
  
"No he's still...," James looked up at the clock in the room and was amazed to see they had spent three hours talking, "second thought he's probably finishing up with Silus and headed to the kitchen in search of Tory."  
  
"Tory?" Remus asked.  
  
"The house elf that works here."  
  
"Well... Good-night I guess," Remus said not knowing what else to say.  
  
James and Sirius embraced Remus once more and told him that he'd find his bedroom by asking for Tory, so he left the training room and asked for Tory, who seemed shy but kind at the same time towards and was lead to his own incredibly large bedroom. It was the exact same design as Harry's room; only the colours were changed from crimson red and white, to a very light blue paint on the walls and matching comforter. The furniture in front of the fireplace was all the same as Harry's save the colour. The bathroom with the white marble countertop, deep porcelain stand alone bath tub, and a large walk-in shower with three fountain heads and an assortment of dials for soaps and soothing ointments. The wardrobe, as completely stocked as Harry's was with the finest robes and muggle suits on the market, and a slew of everyday and training wear. The copious amount of shoe boxes made Remus snort and say, "This has to be Padfoot's doing." Instead of a vast waist high cabinetry system, in Remus' wardrobe was a six foot tall by four foot wide bureau. The doors opened to reveal mirror panels. On the left side of the inside were a stacked series of drawers that housed tie clips, socks, jewelry, cologne, muggle suits, ties and bow ties. The open space to the right on the drawers had a pair of shoe trees hanging from a hook and a note stuck to the back panel addressed to him.  
  
** Remus**  
  
_ This isn't charity so don't take it as such, I did the same for Harry, but you should be able to tell what everything is, and if he has questions help him out. And I know you're asking yourself how I knew that you were thinking that and the answers simple, after I finally saw Harry and got myself confined to Grimmauld Place I started to plan for everything, and if you're reading this I'm sorry to say that I did plan for **everything**. Enjoy life Moony, and watch out for Harry please, I'm sorry that I'm not there for you both but... have a good life my friend.  
  
Love, _

_The Last True Marauder and your Idol Sirius Black.  
_  
Remus had a few tears sliding down his slightly scarred cheeks, but still laughed when he read the sentiments his friend left him. Then looked around and decided to take Sirius' advice and sought out anything that wasn't made out of tweed.  
  
He settled of a pair of finely made black slacks and white buttoned down dress shirt. Then headed for the shower, he'd hoped to get showered and change in time to eat with Harry, and he ended up entering the kitchen and almost the exact same time as Harry only from a different entrance.  
  
"Hold on just a minute, I was just opening the door to my bedroom, how'd I end up here?" Remus worriedly asked while deciding the leave the top three buttons undone. The slack and white dress shirt with the buttons undone did a lot for the prematurely aged man. With his slightly graying auburn hair still wet and slightly tussled he was looking every bid the regal man he used to.  
  
"It happens. The manor is like that," Harry said while sliding onto a school at the kitchen island waiting for Tory to pop his food into existence. He had met her as he exited Silus' room and asked her to prepare and extra helping for Remus this evening.  
  
"So, what's for supper," Remus asked, as if the events of today never took place and they were reacquainting old colleagues.  
  
"You'll have to wait for Tory, but I'm afraid with my fathers strict nutritional plan and ban on anything that is considered comfort food we're limited to something pretty simple. Most likely a chicken or fish meal," Harry said getting more accustomed to having Remus around.  
  
"Sounds much better than what I'm used to, but why do I have to be on the nutritional plan, I'm not the one willingly subjected myself to_ torture_?" Remus mused.  
  
"Can't be tempted, trusted with a great many things, but tempted with food at this point, absolutely not," Harry pointed out.  
  
"Oh," Remus lost his amused state, but still smiled. It was good to be here, among his friends, and Harry who was turning out to be more and more like a friend to him.  
  
The only thing troubling Remus was having to tell Harry about Hermione's parents. He knew that even with what Harry was doing there would still be a part of him that blamed himself for her parents getting hurt and her suffering the loss.  
  
"Remus, tell me what happened to Hermione's parents," Harry told him.  
  
"What, how did you, you don't even have a wand on you?" Remus did not believe that Harry had been in his mind without him knowing it and without even making a gesture that he was doing anything.  
  
"I don't need a wand to enter someone's mind, contrary to what both Sirius and my father think... I have left the manor; now tell me what happened to Hermione and her parents before I actually start delving into your mind."  
  
There wasn't a single hint that Harry was feeling anything other than peace when he asked this question, and even Remus couldn't sense anything around him that would betray the armor of tranquility that he wore so easily.  
  
There was nothing he could do, if he didn't willingly answer Harry's question there wasn't a doubt in his mind that Harry would tear his mind to pieces trying to find the answer, so he chose to hand over the information.  
  
"Harry, there was a raid at the Grangers home, Hermione's father was killed, her mother was subjected to the cruciatus curse and is now in St. Mungo's. Order members apparated into the Granger home and successfully protected Hermione, and she's now in a safe house... and before you ask if its Grimmauld Place it isn't, and she is also not with the Weasley's," finally sighing when he got it all out.  
  
Harry didn't even blink; he stared straight at Remus, "Where is she, Remus?"  
  
"Harry, you need to know... she's safe," Remus stated feeling a slightly cold sensation run up his spine.  
  
"Tell me where she is."  
  
"Harry, she is safe," Remus stated again.  
  
Suddenly without the difficulty that Remus had sense Dumbledore had had when he tried at first to break into his lycanthropic mind he felt that his entire brain was being violated, and as quickly as it had come over him, it was over. There wasn't any residual feeling of pain, and even the violation of his mind didn't occur to Remus, the only thought he had was of what Harry was going to do. Harry made to rise, but Remus caught his arm, but that same electric current that forced Vernon to release Harry during his previous summer at the Dursley's coursed through his veins with the force of someone knowing that it was there and willing to be focused.  
  
Remus' hand was shot back in the air, and the sound of his shoulder popping was clearly audible.  
  
Harry gave a slight grin to his friend and his soon to be instructor once more. Not a smile of triumph at having made Remus release Harry, but a genuine grin that everything was going to be perfectly fine. As if he did this sort of thing every day. He then rose from his stool and apparated up to his room with the sound of a slight breeze of air where there should have been a loud crack.  
  
Remus stared dumbfounded at where Harry had been and the realization that Harry had already mastered apparition with knowledge to also contain the air displacement around him. He had only ever seen one man apparate like that, and that man was Albus Dumbledore. Was his compassion truly the key for releasing his potential? Or did he simply manage to overcome the sound obstacle through trial and error? He couldn't stop Harry anymore than he could stop a lorry traveling at top speed, even with his werewolf strength. He needed an answer and they were upstairs in the training room, so he decided that knowledge was more important and chose to forgo the food.  
  
Harry had his wand out and was using the knowledge he extracted from Remus' mind to program the destination into the portkey that was one of his many fake muggle identification cards. He had no need for robes but he removed one of his father's old dragon hide forearm wand holsters and strapped it on, then spoke, "Haven," with the piece of plastic in his right hand.  
  
He landed outside the gate of a modest cottage, in what appeared to be somewhere in southern England, judging from the landscape and the accent that one woman who hadn't seen him appear was speaking with to her companion. The portkey he placed in his right front pocket then pushed open the gate and strode up the gravel pathway to the front door, on either side stood two order members that he didn't know. He knew they weren't Aurors because they wouldn't have been assigned guard detail for one girl; they had to be new recruits for the order he thought.  
  
'_If this is too easy, I'm going to be extremely pissed with Dumbledore,'_ he said to himself  
  
'_Or if you're using her as bait to draw me, so help me Albus I'll hurt you in a way you haven't imagined since you met Grindelwald...'  
_  
Even with what he'd been learning he hadn't yet broached the topic of threats under invisibility cloaks, but at least he could see into their minds and that's how he could determine he didn't know them, and that's what saved him from being stunned and bound the moment he got with range of the front door.  
  
He wasn't ready to reveal anything that he had learned yet beyond his accomplishments with Legilimency and he used that to his advantage and overloaded the guard's minds until they collapsed. No lasting damage besides a headache, a hurt sense of pride and the loss of their invisibility cloaks.  
  
_'...to the victor,'_ he thought, although he also knew this wasn't a victory or any sort.  
  
The front door wasn't even locked; there wasn't even a secondary guard inside the cottage waiting to see who came through the door so he threw his new cloaks into a pile near the front door. There was however an order member he knew seated on the couch in what appeared to be the living room of this home. Elphias Doge, who had volunteered to escort Harry to Grimmauld Place last year, was just sitting there reading a muggle magazine, not even paying attention to the boy standing in the same room with him. If this is what the order offered as security for being marked just for being friends with Harry Potter then he wasn't even willing to do justice and allow the man to defend himself. Harry removed his wand from the holster strapped to his left forearm and stunned the man, then bound where he lay unconscious.  
  
_'Dumbledore is probably watching all of this,'_ he thought  
  
_'At least I didn't show up wearing a black robe, I'd probably have brought the whole order down on me in under a few minutes.'_  
  
Harry turned his attention to the sound coming from upstairs, a sound that he knew all to well. Hermione was here, and she was upstairs trying to cry herself to death. He knew that feeling, and he knew that drowning in your own grief only helped for few fleeting moments.  
  
He would be there for her when she needed him, like no one had been there for him when he had discovered what the screams he heard when he got close to Dementors truly were; and had to find a solitary place in the castle. When he thought he couldn't have saved Ginny in his second year and constantly relived the moments where she did die and Tom Riddle came back, when Cedric died, and whenever he used to close his eyes and try to sleep only to see Tom Riddle laughing maniacally as he slaughtered people in their homes at night. Hermione would not experience more than she had to, and Harry would find some way to take her pain from her, willingly or not, she did not deserve this.  
  
_'NO ONE DESERVES THIS!'_  
  
He ascended the stairs in search of one of his best friends, the one he had hurt by simply being associated with him. On the second floor there was only the feeling of grief, and the grief wasn't masking anyone else. Harry stood in front of the door where the crying was coming from, and paused; causing his trainers to sink into the shaggy grey carpet. He sighed, expecting the worst from this encounter, locked away the stray emotions that may try to escape when he saw her and thought of what he'd do to Tom Riddle in the end. His hand touched the cool circular silver door know, turning the latch, and the creaking door reluctantly opened against the carpet trying to keep it closed. What he saw he prepared for, but it still did him no good to see her like this. His heart sank when he saw her bushy brown hair sprawled all around her shoulders and head, her body curled in a fetal position with her skinny arms hugging her knees close to her chest. Her sweater and jeans wrinkled from having slept in them. Her eyes shut tightly but the tears still came. He had tried that himself, tried to squeeze his eyes shut so tightly the tear ducts would be damned up as a result, it never happened; it only made you look more tired and sickly than you were. The duvet and top sheet had been flung wildly away from where she laid and they were hanging over the golden rods that made up the rickety bed frame.  
  
If he didn't speak soon, he didn't know if would be able to control himself from the rage that was welling up in the back of his mind.  
  
"Hermione." Harry said  
  
She didn't open her eyes, or shift her position, simply stuttered through her gasps for air, "get out... I don't want anything... can't you understand that?"  
  
His resolve had chosen an odd time to desert him when he stood outside the door, and it chose an even more strange time to return to him now, "I don't care what you want. I wont let you stay here a moment longer."  
  
Dramatic though it was, he said it with enough conviction to more than drive his point into her soul.  
  
She stopped sobbing and gasping for air through her nervousness of her uncertain future and slowly opened her eyes allowing her pupils to dilate and focus on the man standing in the door frame.  
  
Getting up slowly Harry took a step towards her, but then stopped when she looked at him like he was ghost and asked, "Harry?"  
  
"Yes," he answered.  
  
Hermione jumped from the bed with more speed than he assumed she could considering how she looked and launched herself at him.  
  
He was about to step forward and embrace her, when she raised her right hand, palm opened and swung at his face with every ounce of strength left in her.  
  
Harry caught her open palm mid air with his own and pulled her in with it, when she whirled against him and tried attacking him with her other hand. This one he caught as well but not as quickly and he was barely saved her palm imprint on his right cheek. He swung her around and pulled her into him holding her wrists with his arms around her, Harry let her vent. It was what she needed right now. There was no doubt in his mind that he wouldn't like what she was about to say, but he'd bear it to help her; he'd bear it to help anyone in the same condition.  
  
"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH... YOU SODDING BASTARD! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE, DO YOU! IT'S NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU TO HAVE YOUR OWN FUCKED UP LIFE IS IT, NO... EVERYONE WHO GETS NEAR YOU IS DAMNED JUST AS SURE AS YOU ARE. WHY DID I HAVE TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU, I KNEW WHAT WOULD HAPPEN AND NOW LOOK..." she paused for a moment standing rigidly with her back to his front letting out another fit of tears before trying to get out, "my father...he's...he's... oh god...HE'S DEAD!, and my mum SHE'S AS GOOD AS! AND... (hiccup)...ITS YOUR... (hiccup)..."  
  
Hermione's body slackened and she nearly fell back into Harry until he turned her around and truly held her. In an embrace that he had longed for his entire life and had never come to him when he needed it, he freely gave something he didn't know he had to the girl he was holding who was still telling him much she hated him. How she hated even knowing him. Dumbledore had done it again; he had placed another person in need of emotional comfort in the last place that it would ever be found. Albus had taken a broken Hermione and placed her in what he thought was a safe location and jailed her without any form of help. Harry silently hopped that he was happy with himself for what he'd done to this girl. Maybe she would be the one to finally make him see that he was wrong. Harry didn't care that Hermione hated him; he hated himself for what he'd done to her.  
  
On some level, she had been right; it was his fault that his had happened to her. But the true blame rested with Voldemort and the Death Eater that killed Hermione's father and tortured her mother in madness. This was another wrong that he had to make right, and he would do good on this right.  
  
Hermione had ceased beating against his chest and was content to now cry against his chest with her balled fists against his shoulders and his right hand on the small of her back holding her up. His free hand was reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out the fake muggle i.d., holding half between his thumb and forefinger he offered her the other half. She knew what it really was through her half closed eyes, and she hesitated.  
  
"Take it," he said.  
  
She didn't have it in her to fight, and she didn't want to either. Hermione hated it here, and as much as she hated Harry right now, he seemed to be the lesser of two evils. So she tentatively gripped the card and thought she heard him mumble something about heaven which caused her to smile and fall asleep against him before being transported.  
  
Harry did not know that it was possible to sleep through a portkey, but with the amount stress Hermione had endured she needed the rest. They arrived back in Harry's wardrobe where Hermione had nearly slumped to the floor before Harry caught her and picked her up in his arms so he could carry her to the bed. He laid her down gently on the side closest to the window, slipped off her trainers and pulled the spare blanket from the foot of the bed over her. Harry waved his hand at the double doors that were the entrance to his room and said '_colloportus_' sealing them from the inside so that a simple locking spell from the outside could open the door. Then he conjured a privacy bubble around the bed so that she could rest peacefully without disruption. Harry summoned an inked quill and blank parchment and wrote Hermione a note explaining where she was so that when she woke she would not be overly worried.  
  
He then wrote a note of some length to Dumbledore, explaining the similarities between both Hermione and his abandonment and even delved into accepting the blame for what had befallen her. That the aftershock emotional pain was Albus' doing and those would be the truly lingering effects. The solitude, the feeling of abandonment, guilt and sorrow laced together with others only caused a person to run away mentally, and he made sure to make Dumbledore see this.  
  
Harry grabbed the portkey and transported back to the front gate of the cottage. The first two guards were still passed out, so Harry collected the invisibility cloaks and went upstairs to leave the note on Hermione's bed. Inside the room that she was given and then confined herself too, Harry placed the parchment on the center of the bed, and then twirled around hoping that Dumbledore did have surveillance in here, and was speaking coolly and calmly about how he hoped he was happy with what he saw, grabbed the portkey and disappeared back to Potter Manor.  
  
He reappeared in front of the entrance to the manor, which confused him again about the Portkey until he made the sudden connection that the manor sense where you needed to be. That sense allowing the wards- however many or which ones they were, caused the destination of portkey's into Potter Manor to shift slightly. Even though this was slightly disconcerting to understand, knowing that with portkey's destination could shift with the add in of wards, Harry chose to just accept it and head to the kitchen- which was directly to his left through the double doors.  
  
He entered to find two plates and two goblets sitting on the kitchen island and wondered where Remus had gone.  
  
_'To talk to my father,'_ he thought.  
  
Harry slid onto the stool for the second time this evening and glanced at the clock seeing that it was a little after nine, thankfully the food had a warming charm on it. He tucked in and was halfway through the chicken breast and plain eliche when he head Tory pop into the room.  
  
"Hi Tory," Harry said happily.  
  
"Harry left before his food was finished, and Mr. Remus disappeared as well, is everything alright?" Tory asked.  
  
"Yes, everything is fine. I didn't mean to worry you," Harry apologized.  
  
"It is quite fine sir, as long as you are safe." Tory said while looking at him oddly when she said safe.  
  
Tory was about to pop out again before Harry caught her and asked, "Is Remus still in the manor?"  
  
"Yes sir, Mr. Remus is still here and will be here until you escort him out sir," Tory said and then popped away.  
  
_'Remus is trapped here? I must be some sort of key to this place.'_  
  
Harry finished his meal and drank the last of the pumpkin juice in the goblet and had the urge to steal Remus' food for his own as well, but thought somehow his father would know and some sort of unfathomable punishment would be enacted. Probably something he could learn from, but something he could learn an easier way that finding out the hard way... although the food was awfully tempting. Harry was finding himself tapping his fingers on the butcher-block style kitchen island debating whether or not to feast or flee. But before he could make a decision he felt the hairs in the back of his neck, hidden by the pony tail he wore start to stand on end, and then the plate and goblet vanished.  
  
_'Tory,'_ Harry thought, she must have been close to sense his debate, and if she could get into his mind he must have let his guard down over the food. Another lesson learned.  
  
His plate as well vanished from the island, so Harry summoned a pitcher from the top left cabinet next to the sink, caught the glassware and filled it with water and apparated upstairs to his room. Hermione was still sleeping soundly, and she looked somewhat at peace, he could still see the tear tracks from the corner of her eyes down her cheeks.  
  
_'I'm sorry,'_ he thought as he sighed and sat the pitcher on the nightstand close to her.  
  
Harry untied the holster from around his arm and slid the wand out so he could conjure a glass for when she woke up, he also conjured a bin and sat it next to the end of the bed in the event that she woke up sick. He banished the holster back to its place in his wardrobe, waved his hand to extinguish all the candles in the room, and then realized that he didn't want to sleep in what he was wearing so he dragged himself to the wardrobe room for the third time that day. This mornings circuit, his assessment test, and the emotional rollercoaster of bringing Remus here to meet the portrait version of his father and godfather, and then Hermione's outburst towards him when he collected her from the cottage all caught up with at once and he was more than slightly fatigued.  
  
Harry Potter damn near collapsed and fell asleep in middle of his wardrobe, but somehow he managed to change out of what he was wearing and into a pair of white silk pajama bottoms. He thought about putting on a shirt for Hermione's sake, but she had confessed to hating him not more than half an hour earlier and thought that what he wore didn't make a difference. Where he slept though did make a difference, it was his bed, and there was the threat his father impressed upon him his first day here, but maybe he would make an exception for being chivalrous.  
  
_'It's only a bed and I'll be out by the time I lay down anyway.'_  
  
His reasoning that he would pass out as soon as he fell asleep was a sound one, and once he slid under the sheets and pulled the down comforter up to his sternum Harry fell asleep.  
  
At four thirty in the morning, as usual the portrait of James Potter left his own in search of the empty sentry portrait in Harry's bedchamber. Having no abilities beyond his own personality encased in a portrait outside of the training room, he was unable to sense the protective spells that Harry had cast the previous evening. Upon entering the sentry portrait that hung above the now dimly lit fireplace James was surprised to see his son lying flat on his back half naked with a fully clothed girl clinging to his side. Harry's rest seemed to be a peaceful one, although there was no expression coming from him that would suggest otherwise, and James was more that sure that Harry had sealed his mind before falling asleep. The girl however, who he assumed to be Hermione Granger from what Remus had told him last evening about Harry's abrupt and quick furlough to retrieve her, looked like she had been in an self-induced purgatory and was only now letting go. He knew what this girl had suffered from his friends report on what happened to her parents, and he was aware that Harry having been through this himself was not about to allow Dumbledore repeat his mistake again. This only served to make James proud of his son, and he hoped that the real version of himself was somewhere with his wife watching this and experiencing the same pride that now encompassed him.  
  
He was tempted to rouse Harry from his sleep and force him to get ready for his day, but something held him back. Harry had earned a temporary reprieve, after all he had put himself through and all that he had accomplished in so little time, one day to himself where he could tend to his friend would not damage his training. So James returned to the training room and informed Sirius what he had seen, and seeing the maniacal grin the slowly starting to grow on Sirius' face James pointed out that it was an entirely platonic situation. This only caused Sirius to nod his head and placate his best friend's concerns.  
  
Harry, waking himself at four forty five in the morning per usual, was surprised that his father had not already been in his room waiting for Harry to get up and chang so he could start his training. He was also surprised by the weight that he felt of very smooth arm draped over his abdomen and the warmth of a body clinging to him on his left side.  
  
_'I'm a scapegoat and a comfort plush,'_ he thought to himself, but not in a derogatory manner.  
  
He enjoyed the sense of another body pressed up against him, it was... comforting in a way. But it was also strange for his best friend who was obviously completely broken emotionally had taken to the opposite end of the spectrum where it concerned him. Harry had never had anyone that he could cling to, only those that he yearned for; and now that he was doing this for Hermione he felt cheated by the lack of support that hadn't been there for him.  
  
Harry slowly and softly edged himself from under Hermione's arm and slid out of his bed, and made his way to his wardrobe with the only sounds in the room being the soft taps of Harry's bare feet landing on the hardwood floor. He changed into a pair of running shorts and laced up his trainers, and having decided the previous week that running with a shirt only annoyed him when it started to cling to him because of the sweat he completely ignored them during his morning circuit.  
  
From inside his wardrobe, once he was dressed he apparated outside of the training room and made sure that all of the necessary equipment was inside and waiting for himself, and with the sullen mood that he found himself in when he thought of what Dumbledore had done to Hermione after her parents were taken from her... a training room with a storming view of outside would fit his needs for motivation today.  
  
He entered the room to the surprise of both his father and Sirius' portrait gaping at him and asking him what he was doing here. Sirius was pointing out that Hermione was in her bed and that he should be there for her when she wakes up.  
  
Harry answered with something that sounded like he needed to work off some steam, and was met by James telling him that they were doing well with his emotions at the moment and said something about what would have happened to Albus had he been in Harry's place. Although the portrait of James had no idea of the letter that Harry had left for him on Hermione's bed. Harry was grateful that he would have at least done something in the manner that his father would have.  
  
Finishing with nearly a seven and one quarter kilometer run, and going through the motions with his weight training that had been upped to levels which caused his routine to switch from simply performing 10 repetitions of each exercise three times at each station to an increased strength routine that started at 10 reps and descended by 2 each time as he had the room add weight onto the bar, or change the dumbbells on the rack to the proper weight. He wasn't sore when he was done with his new routine, but he knew that he would start to feel the effects of the lactic acid building up in his muscles if he didn't stretch out, which he reluctantly did.  
  
He left the training room a little after seven in the morning. The implementation of his new routine and longer than average run had taken a little longer than his usual routine, and he was ready to shower and get to the library.  
  
Apparating back to his room and landing in the bathroom he waved his right hand and had the great white double doors close themselves silently, disrobed, reached into the shower and waited for the hot water to start before he stepped in himself. Being shocked by a blast of cold water was something of a technique he had used to wake himself up when he did not particularly feel up to training in the morning but he did not need that kind of endorphin shot to his system right now.  
  
Seeing the steam start to rise, Harry stepped in and rinsed off, lathered up and rinsed off again, washed his hair and got out. Grabbing a purple towel that Tory laid out for him to use when he got back from his training in the morning, he wrapped and patted himself down and tied the towel around his waist then apparated into his wardrobe room.  
  
Harry didn't think to close the wardrobe doors, and didn't even notice that Hermione had risen from her sleep, so when he removed the towel from his waist and standing completely naked with his back to his bed, he didn't notice that Hermione was now standing at the door to his wardrobe room staring at his form. This was something that Harry was going to berate himself for, for the entirety of the rest of the time he spent at the manor.  
  
He turned to face her and then asked himself, _'how the hell did I not sense her coming?'_  
  
_'Don't be so naïve to yourself, you know it's the house that blocked you,'_ Harry told himself.  
  
Hermione stood at the threshold to his wardrobe room and stared into his eyes, not once trying to look away from him or at the rest of his body.  
  
Harry likewise stared back at her, the contacts he wore allowed him to sleep in them and now without his glasses he gave off the impression that he was staring into somebody's soul when he fixed his eyes on them. Harry was not practicing Legilimency, he would not violate Hermione's mind. He made no move to cover himself, he had no need to be ashamed of how he looked, but when Hermione's eyes traveled down his body and her mouth slowly opened in shock, he decided that he didn't need Hermione staring at his manhood and quickly re-summoned the towel and wrapped his lower torso.  
  
"I... I'll... let you get dressed," Hermione stammered before turning around and walking towards the chair nearest the bathing room, and out of site of the wardrobe.  
  
Harry summoned a pair of boxers from his cabinetry and then a pair of tan khaki cargos. He pulled on the boxers and then the khakis and secured them with a grey web military style belt with gold gate. And choosing comfort over manners he decided to forgo the shirt again. He stood in front of the large mirror perched on top of his cabinetry system, retrieved a hair tie from its drawer and loosely pulled his hair back and secured it in the style that he decided did much more for him that his old always tussled hair. He knew that his body was in much better shape than it used to be, but he had no comparison to make with anyone since he was living in the manor alone, well, Remus was here now, and this afternoon was sure to be an interesting experience he thought to himself. His chest was well defined and taut showing off well formed pectorals, broad shoulders and developed arms that flexed his biceps and triceps whenever he performed the slightest action. His abdomen was the most defined set of muscles on his body, save his legs, and they were clearly what were referred to as a washboard set of abs, and justly earned as well. Even though there was nothing to trim down when he started his training, instead it was the constant toning and building of his abdomen muscles instead of working off fat. Harry was proud of the way he looked, and he had earned this. He had so few things in his life to feel proud of, and his own body was something for him to feel accomplished about. Harry Potter was not a vain person, but his thinking that he looked better than just ok did wonders for his confidence. And he was still training and developing; he would only get stronger, faster, and more intelligent. He was a weapon according to the prophecy and he was making sure that he was sharp enoughto cut down anything that stood in his way.  
  
He left the wardrobe feeling more confident than when Hermione had walked in and saw him standing there naked. Harry had figured he should have just waved the doors closed and resumed his business of getting dressed, but he was still a near sixteen year old boy and having been naked in front of a girl he was happy that he had not lost control of himself in front of Hermione and become aroused. The feeling on his blood boiling in his veins and the sensation that he was becoming aroused when he saw Hermione standing there took him by surprise and he reacted by raising every Occlumency shield that he could muster to block the feelings of what he wanted to do with Hermione, had she been willing. He thought he was being incredibly stupid and insensitive for even thinking those thoughts with all that had happened to her since he left. And he was partly responsible for what she suffered. He wanted nothing more than to have his father start beating him with a bokken the moment he thought of Hermione in a manner more than friendly, but thankfully she had left the room and was now sitting in front of his fireplace waiting for him to come out.  
  
When he left the wardrobe room, he had expected to see another crying angry version Hermione Granger staring at him and waiting for him to get dressed so she could attack him again. But the Hermione he saw was collected. She still looked like death warmed over, and without the manor secretly blocking his mind he could feel only sadness coming from her now, no anger.  
  
Hermione watched the wardrobe doors, and was shocked to see a half dressed man exit the room. This was not the boy that she had remembered, and when she had seen him naked, she did her best to conceal her blush when she saw that Harry was definitely not a boy anymore. The person that stood in front of her was at peace, and radiated power, something that she felt when she was around Dumbledore; which scared her more than a little. She hated herself for what she had said to Harry the previous night, she hated that she had meant every word of it, and she hated Harry for being so calm. But him bringing her here, wherever she was did more for her than what Dumbledore had done after she had forcibly been separated from her mother's bedside at St. Mungo's.  
  
Hermione knew in the back of her mind that Harry had experienced every feeling that she had for the past two weeks, more than ten times over, and she didn't know how could stand up straight and keep going... and that was something else that she hated him for.  
  
_'How can he stand there looking so calm with everything that's happened to him, and everything that's happening to us NOW!?'_ she asked herself.  
  
Hermione knew that her hate towards him would not last, that he wasn't the one who had pointed the wand, but it was her open friendship with him that had inadvertently caused her unending agony, and she hated not knowing how she was going to get passed this stage of her life.  
  
She did not know that she could hate like this. Hermione had never thought of being capable of hating anyone. All the torment that she had endured for being bookish and odd in grammar school never led to these emotions. Even at Hogwarts where she was singled out for being overzealous with her studies and insulted by Draco Malfoy and the rest of the bigoted 'pureblood' students for being a muggle-born, she always rationalized that they were just ignorant and jealous of what she was capable of and this was their only outlet. Hermione had never let what happened at school effect her in the slightest; she always had Ron and Harry to step in try to protect her. Although she would stop them and tell them to ignore the taunts and the insults; Hermione was secretly pleased that she had friends that would be willing to fight on her behalf, over something as inane to her as '_words_'. Words with meaning, but just words she told herself when she thought of what they said to her.  
  
Now she was in the sitting area of an elegant bedchamber where she had just awaken, and was caught staring at the naked form of Harry, then left him, only to be staring at him half-dressed now and trying to organize her thoughts so she would be able to confront him with everything she had bottled up for this specific occasion.  
  
Harry could sense the apprehension that Hermione was holding onto while she stared at him from the seat she was curled up in. He was in for another thrashing, and this time he wouldn't stop her from hitting him, she needed to get let everything she was holding in, out. And if hitting him was the only cathartic means available, then he was willing to sacrifice his body.  
  
Hermione wasn't making a move, just staring at him, and he realized that he was going to have to be the one that started this.  
  
"You know that I've been there Hermione... you know that I want to help... and you know that I bear blame in what happened..."  
  
Hermione had turned her head from him and was looked to the fire as soon as he started speaking.  
  
"... don't you," Harry said almost accusingly, but with comfort in his words.  
  
A single tear streaked its way down Hermione's left cheek, she made no move to wipe it away or to star breaking down in a crying spell, but she did start talking while facing the fire, "We were about to have dinner. I was still in my room upstairs when my mother called me down trying to study apparition for next year... I was only in my room a few moments longer and then I opened my door and was at the top of the stairs when I heard someone say 'it' and I... I just stood there listening. There was this sound, oh god..." Hermione's eyes were now glistened over and starting to spill over, "... it was... my father, someone had... they just... and when he fell back... I'm never going to forget the sound. There a was crash then of something breaking, a glass serving bowl perhaps, and my mother screaming my father's name once before she stopped and started screaming for herself. I still hear it now... and last night was the only night since, that I haven't heard her in my dreams. GOD HARRY!..." Hermione was hugging her knees to her chest staring directly at him forcing this memory into him, trying to force him to live it. He could have saved her the trouble and just let himself into her memory and seen it for himself, but she needed this, as much as it hurt, it needed to be done this way so she would start to accept it.  
  
"... there were supposed to be wards against them getting in, there were supposed to be order members guarding us, WELL WHERE THE FUCK WERE THEY THEN! WHERE WERE THEY WHEN MY FATHER WAS MURDERED IN FRONT OF MY MOTHER, WHERE THE HELL WERE THEY WHEN THEY STARTED PHYSICALLY BEAT MY MOTHER AND PUT HER UNDER THE CRUCIATUS! WHERE WERE THEY...WHERE WAS I!?" she yelled at him.  
  
Hermione's tears were stayed for the moment, but she clung even tighter to her knees, and then she started again, "... I was at the top of the stairs, that where I was. I DIDN'T EVEN MOVE TO GET MY WAND AND TRY TO HELP! I stood there at the top of the stairs, I was stuck there... I was afraid, GOD I WAS SO AFRAID!" the dam that held her tears back burst and she did nothing to hold them back.  
  
Harry had the urge to go her and take her in his arms, but something was holding him back.  
  
_'No, not yet, let her finish,'_ he thought, he didn't know where the thought came from, but he was willing to trust it.  
  
"... I kept thinking that I should be doing something, asking myself where the order was, asking myself where _**you**_ were. Whoever was in the house didn't know I was there until they were satisfied with my mother... they were watching her writhe on dining room floor, then they heard me, I don't know what I did, I can't remember if I was crying or screaming or cursing... I was in shock and I was stuck, and then there was a wand pointed at me from the bottom of the stairs. I heard it... I heard it start... '_avada_'... and I was ready for it, but I kept asking where you were, why weren't you there, why hadn't you come, you... you and Ron, I was about to die and neither of you were there to help me," she stopped crying again and really looked at Harry, not just staring or glancing at him, but truly looking at him, trying to see past his walls and see the same hurt inside of him; and he was tempted to show her what she was looking for. What she was looking for in him made her experience pale in comparison, and no one deserved to have the death and torture of their parents belittled in any way, and that's what stopped Harry from giving her what she wanted but did not ask outright for.  
  
"... then Kingsley apparated onto the stairs right in front me and put the death eater... grabbed me before there was anything I could do and forced a portkey on me... they locked me in Grimmauld Place for a day, and then took me to see my mother... or, what was left of her. I didn't want to leave, I was holding onto my mums hand so tight that I was drawing blood with my nails and I didn't even know it... they stunned me to make me let go and I fell asleep... then I woke up in the room where you found me... I don't even know how long I've been there, no owls, no news except that Professor Dumbledore said that I'd be safe there with full time guards..."  
  
Harry wanted to laugh at the mention of safety for Hermione and full time guards. He decided to nod and let Hermione continue.  
  
"... and then you finally came... and I attacked you... now I'm here, and I don't know where here is. I don't know anything more Harry; I want to hate you... I can feel it, I want you to answer all my questions, tell me everything's going to fine, and I want you to take this all back, I don't want it... please Harry?" she pleaded with him.  
  
Harry finally closed the distance between them and knelt down in front of her chair, placed a hand on one of her bare feet to make physical contact, looked directly at her and sighed before answering her, "Hermione... I am sorry that by knowing me," he almost stopped and left the room before he went on. "... that by knowing me your parents were stolen from you, if you want to hate me or beat me, if that will help you... then I wont stand in your way..."  
  
Hermione was staring in shock as he was saying these things to her.  
  
"... I will do my best to answer you questions, and as long as you are here everything will be fine, nothing will harm you here... and..." Harry breathed deeply, "... if it was possible for me to take this away from you and I did...I'm sorry... I can't, you have to learn to deal with this. You know I've been where you are now, more times than I care to dwell on, and I will help you learn how to cope, but you are the one that has to make peace with this in the end," Harry spoke softly to her not believing that he was rehashing the same words he believed were lies when they were spoken to him the first time- only to accept them for the truth now.  
  
Hermione's forehead pressed to her knees as she took everything Harry said into her. He was right, and all he wanted to do was help, he'd even answer her questions; and she knew he had answers to questions that no one would have told her before. She just needed time.  
  
"I, I just need some time to think," she said to her thighs.  
  
"Take all the time you need, if you need anything just ask, ok," Harry said taking his hand from her small foot and standing.  
  
"Can I be alone for a while, please?" she asked looking up at Harry now.  
  
"Of course," he said soothingly, "I have to see to some work, if you need me please ask Tory and I will come."  
  
Hermione looked down again, "Thank-you."  
  
The tears had completely stopped, and she had let go of her knees and was starting to lean back comfortably into the chair.  
  
Harry saw that she was getting slightly more comfortable and took his leave for the library. She was doing much better than he would have thought, alone for two weeks, and the first thing she asks for is temporary solitude.  
  
_'Perhaps she does not hate me as much as she says,'_ he thought.  
  
Harry spent the next four hours running through his notes on where he stood on his studies and what steps he needed to take to make it to the next stage or to completion. He checked the status of the various potions he had brewing at the current time and bottled and labeled those that were finished for storage in his ever growing personal apothecary. Harry was sure that whatever malady he would befall during his training he would be prepared with the salve or potion to release the primary effects and side effects of particular curses and spells.  
  
Without his father or Sirius having known Harry had transfigured his face and enjoyed a rare daylight constitutional in Diagon Alley where he purchased all of his school texts for the next two years, and the current editions of the older texts in his library that were no doubt to have been expanded upon and revised. His potion work, when he was not being belittled by an overbearing arsehole for a professor was truly extraordinary work. With all of the advancements that he had made so far he was three quarters into the last of his seventh year texts that he had yet to complete. Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, and Arithmancy were all finished and Harry was now on to more advanced titles in their respective fields. His study of defensive and offensive magic had been put to the test during his assessment examination the other day and he was pleased with his current progress, but knew that he was capable of much more.  
  
Thanks Silus, Sirius and James his confidence in himself had rocketed skyward without bounds. Which only served to cause Harry to push himself further to make both himself and the men training him proud of him.  
  
Conjuring still left something to be desired, where he was only able to create something with a limited time-span, and that was something that required rectifying immediately he thought. So after going over his notes and an hour with honing in his raw magic, he settled down in the center of the library with a few tomes to try and find why he was unable to conjure items indefinitely.  
  
His work with conjuring and the lifeline of the object he conjured was not leading anywhere, and as such Harry was trying to push himself to pour through the texts and find the solution to his problem. He was so involved with his current tome that was discussing the possibilities of a wizard of witch focusing on the lasting time that a conjured item was the direct result of not being able to sustain it until the said item was banished or transfigured into something else. This by far, had been the most reasonable answer that Harry had come across, and he made a note in his progress journal to explore this further when he heard the chime of the grandfather clock in the library strike one in the afternoon.  
  
_'Shite!'_ he cursed himself and the instantly apparated to outside the training room.  
  
He crossed the threshold summoned his bokken from the floor in the right corner closest to the door and prepared for an assault, when none came, he was confused, but still help his guard up.  
  
Remus had already asked the room for everything he needed and turned to see a cautious looking Harry watching him and the projections of Sirius and James.  
  
"I apologize for being late, ran late in the library," Harry said.  
  
"Seeing as how we were going to give you the day off anyway, we won't hurt you too terribly Harry," James stated.  
  
A bokken appeared in the grasp of the projection of James right hand, and when he gripped it a slight grin showed on his face before he asked, "what are you expecting Harry?"  
  
"With Remus being here now, I expected another version of the assessment from yesterday," Harry replied.  
  
"No need Harry, I asked the room for a projected replay of the 'examination' as you call it from yesterday so I know everything I need to know," Remus said before James or Sirius could reply.  
  
"Oh, well that's a load of off my mind," Harry said as he lowered his bokken to his side.  
  
Remus decided to take advantage of this and see where Harry stood when he fought a werewolf at half-strength, which was equal to about five fully grown men. His own bokken that he had crafted the previous evening when Harry left to retrieve Hermione slid down his arm from the concealed position and was now gripped tightly in his hand when he leapt from the sitting area of the room, had the room expand in size to that he would not over jump Harry's position and came striking down on where Harry stood.  
  
Harry had not expected this at all, but the amount of time that Remus spent in the air gave him ample time to raise his bokken and prepare for the downward blow. However, Harry had not calculated in his mind that Remus would strike with more than just above average strength and not half of everything that he possessed and the resounding clash of Remus bokken against Harry tested his ability to hold on to shaking piece of and then try to mount a counterattack.  
  
There would be no counterattack.  
  
It was apparent not more ten seconds into the duel that Remus held the upper hand did not drop or raise his strength from the current level as he attacked Harry with almost greater skill that the portrait James father possessed. The fight lasted all of 2 minutes, which was not a shining moment for Harry who was used to going much longer before ever feeling winded. Remus possessed skill and strength, and Harry was on the defense the entire time until he couldn't stand the assault and beating any longer and banished Remus across the room so that he would land onto one of the couches near the fire. Harry then fell to one knee gasping for breath and used his bokken to help him maintain balance. His upper torso was covered in red welts that if not treated within the hour would turn to gigantic bruises that would have to heal naturally even with a healing and soothing salve. Where the wooden blade had struck him flat across his chest it had cracked his sternum and probably a few ribs, there was probably a fracture in his humerous in his sword and wand arm, another long red welt from where he was struck laid across his abs and stung every time he took in air, his back was also not immune to the assault but thankfully he could feel nothing broken. Nothing was broken besides a few healable bones and his pride, his pride not broken at the loss, but that he had lowered himself during a sword duel to defeating his opponent with outside force beyond the blade.  
  
Finally standing, but only with the aide of his bokken as a walking stick, he walked to where Remus was pulling himself off the couch which looked to be a challenge.  
  
_'Maybe I threw him too hard?'_  
  
"Harry!" Remus said happily.  
  
Harry obviously had a look of concern on himself over watching Remus trying to get up.  
  
"Harry, don't worry about me, I'm fine, you lasted longer than I thought you would," Remus stated now standing upright without any injuries.  
  
"I didn't mean to use magic, but I couldn't beat you," Harry stated.  
  
"The object of our duel was not for you to defeat me, which would have near impossible for you to do, and I was only at half strength..."  
  
Harry stared in awe, he knew that werewolf's were incredibly strong, but he never once suspected during their duel that Remus was holding back, and that it was probably not a mistake to enter his mind and figure this out before the fight began. But he was dumbstruck that what he just witnessed and experienced was only Remus at half mast.  
  
"I see," Harry said.  
  
"That will be all for today, tomorrow you will return to a curriculum in here that you have become used to with your father and Sirius, go take care of yourself and see to Ms. Granger," Remus dismissed him.  
  
"Yes sir," Harry said, banishing his bokken back to the corner and onto its rack.  
  
Harry left the training room to the sound of silence. He supposed that they did not want him to overhear the discussion of where he stood and what action needed to be taken for him to progress, and he figured this conversation would most likely carry on into the evening with a result of a new syllabus in the morning for him to go over.  
  
Right now, Harry needed to return to the potions laboratory off the side of the library where he could start to heal himself.  
  
He walked the entire way to the library afraid that if here to try and apparate right now he would end up splinching himself.  
  
He half expected when he opened the doors to the library that he would find Hermione with her nose buried in one of his texts and revising his notes for him and trying to make suggestions on how to improve certain ideas that he had come up with. But there was no Hermione, there was no Tory, just him and a room full of half open; closed or stacked on their shelves full of books. Harry stumbled into his personal laboratory, which thankfully did not resemble anything close to a dungeon; instead it was more like a modern day chemist's lab. He made it to the cabinet that held his potions and removed two vials of potion that reduced the effect of bruising, the skin would still be sensitive for a day, but that was better than waiting weeks for bruises to heal themselves. He swallowed both without ceremony and banished the empty vials to a sink across the room. Then he removed a pepper up potion that was 'enhanced' from the average potion so that the after effect of feeling completely drained of energy as the potion ended its cycle in the body was negated, and the user of the potion returned to the their normal every day selves. Harry summoned his wand from the holster on his right calf and started a succession of healing charms where he would point his wand in the general area of the broken bone and endure the pain of the bone resetting itself, then after picking himself up off the cold stone tiled floor, he would repeat the process. Finally, half an hour later his sternum, ribs and right humerus were healed, not completely, but enough to get by on. Then he tilted his head back and swallowed the vile tasting pepper up potion he had made and swallowed. The warmth spread through his body and he could feel the new found sense of energy helping him to regain the composure he lost when he finished dueling Remus.  
  
Feeling much better, albeit from the enhancement of an invigorative/healing potion, Harry set off for Silus' room hoping to get his lesson in early so he could get back to library and get back to his research on conjuring, he knew he was onto something when he left for the training room and he was anxious to return and see where the book led him.  
  
Hermione was still in Harry's room, hopefully Harry thought being tended to by Tory if she needs anything more than the solitude she asked for.  
  
So, with everything seeming to be in temporary order for the moment Harry went to strengthen his mind.  
  
Another surprise was waiting for Harry went he opened the door to Silus' room. Remus was engaged in discussion with the portrait of Silus and apparently waiting for Harry to arrive. Harry had just assumed that Remus would still be in discussion with Sirius and his father not waiting for him in the occlumency training room.  
  
_'It's possible he's learning this skill as well,'_ he thought.  
  
"Harry!" both Silus and Remus said in unison.  
  
"Silus," Harry said nodding in respect, "Remus? What are you doing here?" he asked.  
  
"I'm here to help," Remus stated with a slightly amused tone.  
  
Harry was becoming disconcerted at the seeming lack of seriousness that Remus took when it came to training. Teaching Harry to defend himself against a Dementor with a smile on his face and a piece of chocolate for his accomplishment was fine two and half years ago, but Harry was taking his current training with the thought that this was absolutely necessary and while here and learning there should be no deviation. Although he had already broken his own rule by apparating out of the manor for personal reasons and to bring Hermione here, but this was different, he felt a twinge of annoyance that Remus looked as though he wasn't digesting this situation in the correct manner.  
  
"Help how exactly?" Harry pointedly asked.  
  
Silus broke in at the mention of how, "Harry, Remus will open his mind to you... not that that would be necessary, but you will then show him false memories. You should be able to feed complete memories and thoughts of events that never happened, or events with certain aspects changed to suit your needs, these memories need to be complete with emotional background and the smallest detail you can imagine. Remus here has told him of his incredible ability to notice the small details that usual escape most people, so he is an excellent candidate for you to practice on. Now please take your position, Remus you as well please," Silus said to both of them.  
  
Harry walked over to his usual seat in front of Silus, a knee high, soft circular platform that was upholstered in a light gray felt lining. He arranged himself atop the seat in the '_lotus_' position as Silus had informed him with his legs crossed and one on top of the other and his palms face down on top of his knees and his back perfectly straight and shoulders squared. The position was not a requirement for any kind of exercise or tutelage that Silus had give Harry, it was simply a comfortable seating arrangement that helped Harry focus at the beginning of his training. And once Harry had started to return to the exact same position everyday after he had learned it, Silus had accepted it and began his instruction for the day.  
  
Remus, in much the same fashion as Harry sat crossed legged, without one on top of the other though, and his back was in a relaxed state, with his hands on his jean clad thighs.  
  
Harry ready to begin didn't wait for Remus to attempt to open his mind, he simply discarded the lycanthropic shields and projected a completely falsified memory of Harry receiving his first Hogwarts letter and his relatives being happy for him and congratulating him for following in his parents footsteps. He included the details about the address to the boy under the cupboard and the wax seal of Hogwarts and how his relatives looked and what was on the kitchen table, and then exited Remus memory to see how he did.  
  
Remus kept his eyes closed going over the false memory that Harry had just sent him going over the details. After a few moments his eyes blinked open and darted between Harry and Silus before speaking.  
  
"That was incredible, and very well done except for one thing," Remus said.  
  
Harry couldn't think of what he had forgotten to include but remained placid instead of showing his confusion.  
  
"You forgot to show what was happening beyond the windows."  
  
Harry questioned what he meant, "Beyond the windows? I don't follow?"  
  
"The memory you sent me was perfect down to the lint in the carpet, but all of the windows in the house were completely black, there wasn't anything beyond them. I guess most people would have been focused on the scene inside," Remus answered.  
  
"Well done Remus," Silus said.  
  
Feeling that he could do better, was back inside Remus' head in under a second and showing him another memory from inside the Dursley's, this time making sure that he didn't forget anything.  
  
Remus opened his eyes quicker this time and confirmed that Harry had included everything. Everything except that the doormat that read welcome was written upside down and backwards.  
  
Crestfallen, but only getting warmed-up, Harry tried again, and again, and again. He spent six hours creating false memories of the Dursley's, the Hogwarts Express, the Burrow, Dumbledore's office, and meetings with Cornelius Fudge. By the time that Silus had called it a day Harry's mind even with the added effects of the pepper up potion was dragging along. The Occlumency lesson with Remus and Silus turned out to be one of his better learning experiences with the art, and he was happy that he now had someone inside the manor that he could practice on, instead of apparating to the Leaky Cauldron in a transfigured body and opening people's minds unexpectedly from a corner in the bar. No, that was nothing compared to the exercise his mind got this afternoon, and he was thrilled at the possibility of this raising his abilities higher than he prospected for the end of the summer.  
  
Remus as well was feeling drained from being subjected to Harry's false memories and nearly fell over backwards from mental exhaustion with Silus ended the lesson for the day. Harry not as bad off as Remus jumped from his seated position and grabbed the lapel of Remus' shirt and pulled him up and hoisted him over his shoulder in the fire mans carry and headed for Remus room, where Harry kicked open the door and unceremoniously dumped Remus' body onto his bed where he laid passed out.  
  
_'Bastard weighs more than he looks like, I need to learn how to take someone with me when I apparate, that was ridiculous!'_ Harry thought exhaustedly.  
  
Harry sweating from the effort it took to carry Remus down a flight of stairs and then haul him to his room, and that combined with all the effort he put into Legilimency today was glistening with perspiration, and the tail that he kept his hair in had come loose and there were bits of disheveled hair flying around as he walked back down the corridor to his own room.  
  
He entered his bedroom to find Hermione sitting cross legged in the very middle of his beds flipping through the pages of his parents' photo portfolio. He sighed, happy to see that she was moving at least a little and functioning.  
  
Hermione heard the sigh and raised her head from the pictures of Harry's parents holding the baby version of him and waving to look at him. Sweaty, his hair thrown about wildly, his open but obviously tired, and faint red lines across his chest, abdomen and right arm, she had yet to see his back.  
  
She muttered, "hello," seeing him standing at the entry way.  
  
Breathing in deeply and feeling the twinge of the hit to his abs he said, "hi."  
  
Hermione started to close the portfolio, but he raised a hand told her, "it's ok, I don't mind."  
  
Harry hoped that was the right thing to say, and seeing a small smile on her face, he was happy that he was correct.  
  
"Do you... do you know where these were taken?" she asked quietly.  
  
"No, sorry," he replied flatly.  
  
"Oh," she said turning the page and paying attention to the pictures instead of Harry.  
  
"Have you had anything to eat yet?" he asked watching her focus her attention on the photographs of his parents.  
  
"No, Tory came by earlier by I wasn't hungry, but..." she looked liked she was questioning whether or not to complete the sentence.  
  
Harry took the opportunity, "would you like to come with me, I'll make you something."  
  
A faint smile, but a smile none the less appeared, and she just nodded her head.  
  
"I'm going to take a quick shower and then I'll take you to the kitchen, ok?"  
  
Hermione looked a little flush and Harry realized what had caused this, "Don't worry, I'll make sure you don't see _me_ again."  
  
The slight red tint to her cheeks remained and she said, "ok."  
  
Harry apparated into the wardrobe first to get a pair of boxers, khaki's and a plain white t-shirt, then apparated into the bathing room; closed the doors the physical way with his hands. He then turned on the water, allowing it to heat up first, then stepped into the huge stall and cleaned himself up, turned off the water, got out of the stall and dried off and dressed. Harry fully clothed except for socks and trainers apparated to beside the bed without a sound this time and offered Hermione his hand, who then slowly accepted his offer to help her off the bed. She left the portfolio where she was looking and it and once standing let go of Harry's hand.  
  
He led the way down the corridor with her right beside him, down the stairs to the first floor, through the dining room and into the kitchen.  
  
POP!  
  
Hermione jumped and Harry's hand went to her shoulder to calm her from Tory's sudden and unexpected appearance.  
  
"Is there something I can prepare for you and the miss, sir?" Tory inquired.  
  
"No thank-you Tory, I'll be cooking this evening," Harry replied.  
  
"Sir?" Tory said questioningly.  
  
"Please excuse us for the night Tory, we need to be alone," Hermione said quietly from beside Harry.  
  
Harry just nodded to Tory, who then snapped her fingers and popped out.  
  
Hermione walked ahead of him and slid onto one of the stools seated around the kitchen island and brought her hands together and elbows propping her up.  
  
Harry summoned two plates from the cupboard and placed them on the kitchen island, then waved his hand at the refrigerator door causing it to open, summoned the ingredients he would need, cooked chicken breasts, tomatoes, lettuce, pickles, bread, spicy mustard, and a few slices of mild cheddar cheese, waved his hand again and closed the refrigerator door. He was so focused on making a meager meal of chicken sandwiches, that he didn't notice when a strange emotion started coming from Hermione. Had he looked at up and at her face he would have seen a mixture of awe and confusion replace the complete lack of emotion that she possessed when she sat down at the island.  
  
He had used all of the ingredients and now there were only crumbs and empty bottles to show it. Harry was about to clean it all up with a spell when an epiphany struck him. He left the mess for the time being.  
  
Harry handed Hermione her plate, walked to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of butterbeer. Then he seated himself a stool apart from Hermione and slid one of the bottles her way, which she caught without effort- something he had expected. He knew know that the emotion he couldn't identify coming off of Hermione was a mixture of determination and focus, it was odd that she wasn't giving off any anger, but maybe she was masking it he thought.  
  
_'I'm not going into her mind to find out; I won't violate her like that.'_  
  
Hermione nearly swallowed her sandwich whole, it was gone before Harry had even finished the first half of his. Well, Harry was savoring real food with taste, so he might have eaten his as quickly; but he doubted that Hermione had eaten much since the attack. Finished with her sandwich and swallowing the last of her butterbeer she turned to face Harry.  
  
_'Why is he eating so slowly?'_ she asked herself.  
  
Seeing that Hermione was completely finished, Harry reached down for his wand that was tied to his calf again, flipped it around in the air and offered her the handled end of his wand.  
  
The offered wand confused her, but she accepted it, and felt the warmth spread through her when she gripped it tightly not wanting to let go off that sensation. Her own wand did not offer the tranquility that Harry's offered her and she wondered why. She also wondered why Harry had offered her his wand, and why is strapped to his calf with a dragon hide holster no less.  
  
"Use it," Harry said as if using magic for an underage wizard was an everyday and the entire time occurrence.  
  
She hesitated using the wand, but relished the security that it was freely offering to her... that Harry had already given her without asking anything in return.  
  
"I found out that ministry doesn't track the wizard earlier this summer, instead they tracked the wand, and even if the manor wasn't warded against a multitude of detection spells, its my wand and I'd get the owl informing me of my deliberate use of magic and thus breaking the law for the statute of underage witches and wizards some odd paragraph and obscure subsection, whatever amendment..."  
  
Hermione almost laughed at Harry's mocking of receiving an owl hounding him for using magic underage, but held back. It made sense though what he was saying about tracking underage magic. How would the ministry be able to keep watch on thousands of children using magic, but then there was the idea of accidental magic and how there was a magical reversal squad for just that occasion, Hermione was certainly giving credit to Harry's assumption about tracking the wand, but the accidental magic and their ability to detect that magic without a wand raised a contradicting question that she couldn't answer. But it was Harry's wand, and he asked her to use it to prove a point, and he certainly was confident about his decision for her to use magic. So she acquiesced to Harry's request and waved the wand at the dirty plate, empty goblet and mess that Harry had left while making dinner for her- which she was grateful for and shouted, _"evanesco!"_  
  
Instantly the plate, empty bottle and trash from Harry's sandwich making vanished from site, and Hermione turned her head to stare at Harry, before looking left and right waiting for an owl to come swooping through the window or fireplace.  
  
Harry wanted nothing more than to put Hermione at ease, "Hermione, there wont be any owls, no one knows where this place is located, the Fidelius, and hundreds of additional wards on top of that, so they cant detect the use of magic or who or where we are, you're safe to do as you please here, its ok," he said reaching out and resting his hand on top of hers.  
  
The warmth that Hermione felt when Harry rested his hand on top of hers was the same as the warmth that spread through her this morning when he placed his hand on her foot, and then again when she gripped his wand. There was something about Harry that just put her at ease, and forced her to see past her blaming him, something she had been trying to do all day. She could not forgive him for something he had never apologized for, the only thing that Harry had apologized for was not being able to take away her pain and that was hers to bear. She didn't really want him to have to carry that weight around with him as well. But somewhere in his mind, Hermione was sure that Harry felt guilty for her being hurt because of him. She needed him right now, for everything.  
  
Hermione did not move her hand from under his, and she did not return his wand, but she did finally smile a full smile and that brought Harry his own warmth. His heart that had sunk when he found her in the cottage now properly resumed its place high in his chest.  
  
Harry returned her smile, "I won't need that until tomorrow afternoon, so feel free to go wild with it until then. Or did you have your wand on you when... when I brought you here?"  
  
"No... I didn't even have my wand at the cottage, I don't know where it is anymore," Hermione said sadly which only slightly diminished the smile.  
  
Harry could feel happiness in her again, and if it was because she could do magic, then he'd make it so she could it whenever she wanted.  
  
"We could get you a new wand tomorrow if you want, I could make us a portkey for tomorrow morning when my trainers think I'll be in the library," Harry stated.  
  
"You can't do that!" Hermione said unbelievingly.  
  
"How do you think I brought you here? I haven't learned forced apparition yet, it's a little further down my list of things to learn," Harry asked and stated flatly.  
  
"I... I thought Professor Dumbledore thought I'd be safer where you were and had told you to come and get me, I didn't think you could program portkey's without ministry approval?" Hermione asked coming into the conversation fully.  
  
Harry was ecstatic that Hermione was returning a little bit to her old questioning self, but didn't show more than a sly smile. She'd never be the same again he knew, but a sense of normalcy was adding to her recovery thankfully.  
  
_"Albus,"_ he started flatly, "has lost control of something he needs, and it seems that he is covering up for it with half truths nicely. Dumbledore has absolutely no idea where I am, and he never will, this is Potter Manor Hermione, one of the many homes I now own as a legal adult..."  
  
Hermione was about to say something about Dumbledore not knowing where they are and that they should tell him, he was sure of it, so he had to put a stop to it before it came out.  
  
"... when Sirius died, he left in his will papers that if I were to sign would emancipate from the Dursley's as my legal muggle guardian's and Dumbledore's control as my wizard guardian. So the second day home from school, I escaped Privet Drive, and I say escape because I truly was a prisoner there- I don't care what the circumstances are or rather were. So I made my way to Diagon Alley, where I was informed that one Albus Dumbledore had been hiding more secrets from me '_for my own good_' mind you. I did not know that my account was being watched for him and that the goblin personnel reported all of my transactions directly to him, and that he tried to make sure that I did not know that there was an actual Potter Family vault, which housed everything about my past. I made a decision upon learning these facts and when returning to Privet Drive I decided that I wouldn't be his puppet any longer..."  
  
Hermione was really about to protest, but he gripped her hand and that seemed to stall her.  
  
"... Hermione, you don't know what he's kept from me, the truth about why Voldemort is really after my life, the reason for not having anything to do with me the previous year, and then at the ministry when Sirius died, and Voldemort possessed me and Dumbledore sent me back to his office to wait so that he could explain everything to me. I'm not even entirely sure that he divulged everything about me at that particular meeting considering my outburst and subsequent rearranging of his office. If you really want to know what I am to the world then I'll tell you and still love you as my best friend the best I can with you knowing, but if you want to see me as your friend Harry I'd love you for the rest of eternity as well. It's you choice, and choice is something that I have never had until I made one for myself at the beginning of this summer. Since I have been here and training, I have made leaps and bounds beyond my own imagination, and I'm only starting Hermione..."  
  
She had an awed and slightly comforted look about her now.  
  
"... I don't want any one's pity, and I'd be surprised when this summer is over if I ever show an ounce to an undeserving person again," Harry paused and took a deep breath before finishing with, "Albus Dumbledore, has made great mistakes when it comes to the people he supposedly cares for, I won't give you examples because I don't want to taint you with my own distrust for that man, you are more than capable of making up your own mind and I leave that to you. You have a choice Hermione, and I won't stand in your way when you make it. I brought you here because this is where you needed to be, I told you I know what you're going through, and the day after I bring you here look at you, you're up and engaging in theoretical debate about the ability of the ministry to track the use of magic, so you're already emotionally stronger than I am. You never truly saw how I was when I returned to my relatives' house at the end of fourth year, and if it hadn't been for the choice I made this summer I'd be back there, in that closet of a room, a broken 15 year old boy, and I'd probably be dead Hermione, I would have killed myself rather than go through that again. I'm in awe of you, I respect you and you're my best friend and I love you, so what do you want to do?" Harry asked her smiling as he did.  
  
Hermione blushed at the complements and the awe that Harry had said he was proud of her, Harry Potter; the Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the Philosopher's Stone, Slayer of Basilisks, time-altering Hippogriff saving corporeal Patronus casting Godfather saving, co-winner of the first Tri-Wizard competition in over a hundred years, Death Eater dueler, and resisting the possession of Voldemort, this Harry Potter respected her and was proud of her and loved her. Loved her how she wondered, and blushed even deeper. Surely not in any manner other than brotherly? He was willing to do whatever she wanted, and with Harry's use of wandless magic in the kitchen, new found confidence and abilities that dumbfounded her, she wanted nothing more than to stay here and learn. If Dumbledore was responsible for just the things that Harry was listing out loud, then there must be more that he isn't telling her about, that was just something that Harry did, something to understate the true force behind the pain. If she were to ask how he was feeling, he would always respond with, "I'm fine," even if something was broken or bleeding. Hermione made her choice.  
  
"I want... I'd like your help. I may look better, and I feel safe and warm when I'm holding your wand and you touch me..."  
  
Harry did not loosen his hold on Hermione's hand, although he thought about it.  
  
"...it hurts Harry, it hurts so much, but at least around you... it doesn't hurt as much. And, I want you to tell me everything you can. I understand there are some things that you probably can not or will not tell me, but I want you to try and confide in me. I want to help..."  
  
Harry was seriously contemplating letting a tear fall in happiness.  
  
A sly grin came across her face and her head bowed slightly when she said, "And I want... I want to get a wand that does to me, what yours does for me."  
  
Harry nearly fell over at hearing this unintended double entendre, but gently squeezed her hand and maintained a calm exterior, when in his head he was laughing out loud and rolling around on the floor while praying that Sirius never got wind of this, otherwise he'd been for unceasing teasing.  
  
His other hand reached over and cupped her face and raised it so he could look into her honey colored eyes and said softly, "Tomorrow, after my morning circuit, I'll wake you up and we'll go to Diagon Alley to get you anything you want. Then I'm taking you into muggle London so we can get you a wardrobe and have a fancy lunch and talk about anything and everything that has absolutely no meaning or means the world."  
  
She smiled at him leaning in slightly to his palm, trying not to close her eyes and imagine there was something more between them.  
  
Hermione didn't say anything after his last statement so Harry asked, "is it a deal then?"  
  
"Hmm, a deal?" Hermione basically purred.  
  
Harry was started to get confused over his feelings right now, and he definitely didn't need that so he tried to force the conversation on and ignore the feelings while remaining composed, "You help me, and I help you?"  
  
Hermione snapped out of the fantasy state she was wallowing in and said sheepishly, "it's a deal."  
  
'_Her mother was tortured and her father is buried in a cemetery somewhere and you're getting all warm and fuzzy, what the hell is wrong with you man, snap out of it,'_ he told himself forcefully, but not really wanting to.  
  
_'Your mother is lying in St. Mungo's not knowing who she is or who you are, and your father was murdered because you know Harry, and you're daydreaming and the comfort of his embrace, what the hell is wrong with you, get a bloody grip,'_ she told herself with conviction, but not forgetting how good it felt for Harry's hand to touch her face; she could still feel the tingling sensation he had caused her and the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.  
  
The rest of time that they were in the kitchen they engaged in small talk, avoiding the topic anything in the outside world. Hermione was curious to know everything that Harry had been studying and was grateful to have something to take her mind off the unending sense of grief that she had been filled with these past two weeks. She started to really question why Dumbledore had left her completely alone, and smiling at the thought that Harry knew exactly what to do to help her.  
  
By the time Harry had finished the last of his sandwich and explained why exactly he took his time with the food and silently accepted Hermione's laughter over the idea of a Harry being on a nutritional diet, it was half past eight at night. Hermione once again used Harry's wand to clear the island and then slid the wand into her right jean pocket.  
  
_'She needs the safety of it, so don't make mention of it git,'_ Harry told himself when he saw Hermione place his wand in her pocket.  
  
Hermione didn't think anything of it and asked if he would show her the library, which he decided wasn't a bad idea considering he wanted to go there to study on conjuring again, but it was late and the pepper up potion was wearing thin. He was more than happy to do anything she wanted that would keep her pain at bay, and he more than thankful that the manor realized how tired he was and simply took them to the library when they exited the kitchen. Which resulted in Hermione questioning him and him explaining that the manor can sense things about the occupants, and then explaining that the manor must also have a sense of humor to block his ability this morning so he wouldn't sense that Hermione was coming and caught him in the buff. She started to giggle, and that confused Harry greatly.  
  
_'Hermione doesn't giggle... does she?'_  
  
Harry showed her the books that he was currently using and some of the notes he made, and could see that she wanted explanations as to what brought him to the conclusions he made but told her that he'd sit down with her tomorrow and discuss everything at length until she was absolutely satisfied, and given the opportunity to try and improve on his work. He silently doubted that without the prior studies that Harry had done Hermione would be rebuffed when he offered her a reason as to why what she thought wouldn't work. Sure Hermione Granger read anything and everything she could get her hands on, but this library was practically identical to Hogwarts with the exception there was no barrier to the restricted section, all knowledge was available here.  
  
Next he showed her through the door that led to his potions laboratory which caused her to drop her jaw in disbelief and mutter something that sounded and awfully a lot like, "I wish the potions lab at Hogwarts was like this." Harry opened his apothecary cabinet to her and pointed a the potions he had brewed that she did not know of, or how he had managed to accomplish brewing so many obscure potions that he shouldn't have been capable of. So he told her again that tomorrow he would explain everything, which seemed to please her.  
  
With the conclusion of the potions lab tour and the brief exploration of the library, and Harry explaining that Remus Lupin was here but passed out in his bedroom from overdoing it a bit, Harry was ready to lay back on his bed, close his mind, and pass out in a comfortable fashion.  
  
So a now satisfied and tired Hermione, and very tired Harry, exited the library to enter Harry's bedroom and he silently thanked the house again, now absolutely sure that the house could hear him. Harry hadn't given a thought as to sleeping arrangements so he told her that she could have the bed and he'd sleep on the sofa.  
  
"It's your bed Harry, I can sleep on the sofa," she said.  
  
"Hermione, allow me this chivalrous notion, take the bed, I'll sleep on the sofa, I don't have it in me to really argue right now," Harry yawned.  
  
"I will only sleep on the bed if you do as well," she said flatly while staring at him.  
  
"Hermione..." Harry started.  
  
"Harry, we're friends, I'm not going to do anything and you wouldn't take advantage of me, would you?"  
  
"Of course not!" Harry stated excitedly.  
  
"So there's no problem, and if I end up clinging to you, don't push me away alright?" she said and asked.  
  
"I just want to sleep," Harry said tiredly.  
  
"Fine you go to sleep; can I use your bath tub?"  
  
Harry was walking towards his wardrobe room so he could change for bed when he turned and walked back to her and placed his hands on her arms and looked down to tell her eye to eye, "so long as you don't try to burn down the manor you can feel free to do whatever you want, ok?"  
  
"Ok," she said sheepishly trying to look away from him,  
  
Harry dropped his hands and turned for the wardrobe again, but she was following him.  
  
Hermione was standing at the threshold again and Harry raised an eyebrow questioningly.  
  
"Can I... borrow a set of pajamas, until tomorrow?" she asked.  
  
"Yes, of course," he said feeling guilty that he hadn't thought of that and summoned a pair of white silk pajamas, bottoms and top to him and then handed them to her.  
  
Hermione turned and left after she said thank you for the pajamas and Harry slipped off his clothes and pulled on one of his many pairs of black silk pajama trousers, then he looked up at the open door, half expecting to see Hermione there again.  
  
_'Damn it, forgot to close the doors again!'_  
  
Harry was closing his mind as he strode from his wardrobe room to his bed, and just like the previous night, and most nights before since he had arrived at the manor, Harry fell asleep with a now content look on his face and the comforter wrapped around his waist exposing his upper body.  
  
About an hour after Harry had passed out, Hermione had finished the first bath she had taken in over 2 and half weeks, and felt completely relaxed. Halfway into the bath, she had started to slip back into her grief, but the site of Harry's wand that was within her reach calmed her and let her enjoy the rest of the experience. She reveled in the feel of warm water encasing her and cleansing away the grime that she had built up, found a bag disposable razors took one and depilated herself nearly everywhere below her neck, save one part of her body. And the thought that Harry was asleep in the other room gave her a slight thrill and sent her into a series of giggles, something she hadn't done since she was eight years old.  
  
_'I must just be attaching myself to Harry as a sort of coping mechanism,'_ she reasoned to herself.  
  
But the warmth that she felt when she held Harry's wand and when he touched her could not be explained as a way to cope. It was too difficult a question to answer so she did what Harry had told her to do earlier this night and she made a choice, and chose not to think about where it came from or what it was and to just let it run its course. A choice to let Harry in, to really see her and help her.  
  
Hermione stepped out of the deep porcelain bath tub and toweled off, dried her hair with a different towel, found a comb in the middle drawer under the sink and combed her usually bushy brown hair that was now straight. Then she dressed in the silk pajamas Harry had given her and incredibly comfortable with the sense of 'freeness' that they offered, grabbed Harry's wand and sent her clothes to the hamper and headed for the bed.  
  
Harry had extinguished the candles that lined the walls, but left the fireplace lit big enough to allow Hermione to find her way to bed without stubbing her toes on any of the furniture. She was standing next to Harry's side of the bed and staring at the passed out version of Harry Potter. He had looked so collected and calm all today and yesterday, and even in his sleep he seemed confident about something... himself maybe? Hermione felt slightly out of sorts staring at a sleeping Harry so she walked around the enormous bed, set Harry's wand on the nightstand, slid under the sheets on her 'own side' as she called it and tried to fall asleep as soundly as Harry now was.  
  
Fifteen minutes later and completely frustrated; Hermione grabbed Harry's wand from the night stand and slid across the bed next to Harry. She set his wand next to his body, draped her right arm across his chest so that her hand was close to the wand, entwined her legs against his left one and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. Then after she let the warmth the Harry radiated fully encompass her, she fell into the most content and peaceful sleep she had ever had.


	8. Error In Thought

**Error in Thought:**  
  
Albus Dumbledore had opted not to read Harry's letter in the bedroom that had recently been occupied by Hermione Granger and instead apparated back to his office at Hogwarts, where he made sure he was seated while reading Harry's letter.  
  
The order members Johnathon Schrom and Eman Ileda who were assigned to protect Ms. Granger had been dealt with at the hands of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Had Albus Dumbledore been responsible for seeing to them after he arrived at the cottage they would have been enjoying a month long furlough at St. Mungo's.  
  
Upon finding out that Remus Lupin had been contacted by someone he guessed to be Harry and disappeared, although a travesty Albus had decided to use Ms. Granger. She would most assuredly draw Harry out of hiding, giving Albus the opportunity to confront him and bring him back into the fold.  
  
However the plan did not work out the way that Albus had arranged. Harry incapacitated the first two guards stationed at the front door to the cottage without a wand they had reported and then confiscated their invisibility cloaks. Also with the review of the surveillance orb, Albus watched Harry stun and bind Elphias Doge; who was in the sitting room completely unaware that Harry was there. After Doge's failure at protection, there was the subsequent and willing removal of Ms. Granger from the cottage by portkey. And to add insult to injury Harry returns by another portkey after a brief wait without a care or without thinking as to the possibility that more order members had been alerted, to simply leave a piece of parchment on the center of the girl's bed, then portkey's out again after he accomplishes this task.  
  
The entirety of Harry's actions had insulted the Order of the Phoenix's ability to protect even a single human being- even one being used as a trap. Albus Dumbledore was proud in a sense of what Harry had done. He was also furious over what happened to Ms. Grangers parents and still vexed as to how a death eater had passed the wards around their home. These ponderings led to more than one room at Grimmauld Place being completely incinerated.  
  
Now Albus was in his office later the night of Ms. Granger's willing abduction. After having to explain to the Weasley family, especially Ronald Weasley that Hermione had been moved to an even more secure location where she would also be receiving the medical attention she requires. Medical attention was something that he had never thought to seek for Ms. Granger after the attack on her home; seeing as she had no physical wounds, and only displayed stress over the loss of her parents.  
  
He broke the wax seal with his finger and unfolded the parchment, and caught a blank square piece of material; that had the feel of a completely programmed portkey. His eyes traveled to the endearment at the top of the yellow parchment,  
  
_Albus,_  
  
_Are you happy? Are you proud? Resentful? Showing a sense of remorse? Do you even realize what you did that made me come to get Hermione? I'm sure do; well... by the time you read this I'm sure you would have pieced it together. She is 16 Albus, it's one thing to do what you've done to an infant that will never have a real memory of being happy with his parent's, but to a near 17 year old girl that had her parent's **stolen** from her because **she knew me**. Come now man, what were you thinking? Wait, let me guess, you held her safety in the highest regard and placed her in an environment where she would be out of harms way, am I correct?  
I am not proud of what I've done here, but having seen the lengths you went to in order to secure my friends' protection, I must say that much is needed to be improved. I know you've watched what happened, so feel free to be ashamed of your sentries, I implore you to.  
Hermione is **now** safe and I will be seeing to her recovery since you seem to have chosen to neglect that at the moment. She hates me right now, and I do not blame her, but I will help her with everything that I am. I hope that you are seeing to Ron and his family... **my family**. He more than likely hates me as well right now, and I do not know what the future holds for those that are associated with me. But I will do what is necessary and what is required of me.  
I hope that see the error of your ways, and realize that the people around you are more than a means to an end. The question of which is the greater good, never needs to be answered in my opinion; you may even see my reasoning for this as being naïve and never having experienced the question...well I hope you know by now that there is more to me than you have seen. We both harbor secrets now Albus, and I have come to a cross roads regarding my relationship with you.  
When you are reading this I want you to know that the greatest care will be given to Hermione, and it comes from someone she currently hates, and that the man that she looked up to, to pacify her anger and soothe her pain jailed her and offered absolutely no solace. Do me the honor and try to see the errors you've made, even while at war, Albus.  
I would also like to ask for an audience with you before the summer '**holidays**' come to a close. The blank square piece of plastic you are no doubt holding and realizing is a portkey will take you to location where we can discuss anything that comes to mind, in a civil manner. I would be thankful if you were to arrive, the date is set for August 15th at half past five in the evening, the trigger is 'Truce'.  
  
Fixing your mistakes, _

_Harry James Potter.  
_  
Albus' hands still holding the letter, dropped into his lap and a tear followed suit. He was aware that he had used Ms. Granger, reluctantly but he had still done it for what he believed was the greater good. And here a soon to be sixteen year old boy telling him about forgoing the greater good, speaking down to him and at him at the same time; even requesting a meeting to 'talk'.  
  
The amount of emotion and conviction with his words that Harry poured into the letter struck a chord with the aging headmaster. He was wrong, he knew that and still acting accordingly to do what was necessary, but had he truly been so wrong. The twinkle of Albus Dumbledore's blue eyes flickered out again, as it happened whenever he thought of Harry. On the fifteenth Albus would take the peace offering of the portkey, he even smiled slightly and the twinkle in his eyes started again when he thought of Harry's trigger of 'truce'. Albus was not aware that the two of them had been fighting; they had their differences of opinion, but what he had done to make Harry see things between them as conflict he could not determine. But the questions he had would hopefully be answered soon, and until then he would worry about dealing with Tom Riddle and what he was plotting in silence.

* * *

Ron Weasley being the youngest brother out of 6 was used to being uninformed when it came to relevant information, and that had always led to teasing and ridicule from his older brothers. That was until he met Harry Potter on the Hogwarts express and became his best friend somehow by doing so. The famous Harry Potter, best friends with Ron Weasley, hand me downs and all, well Harry wasn't extravagantly clothed himself when they met, but that meant nothing to Harry. For five years they had shared experiences that bound them together so close they were like brothers, even with Ron's jealousy fourth year and Harry's attitude in fifth year, Harry was the unofficial 8th Weasley and 7th Weasley son. But now Ron was without his best friend, and also with out the other side to their triangle, Hermione Granger, whom he thought he secretly had a crush on. But it was apparent to anyone who saw the way he looked at her, despite their arguments and total rows. He held out hope that this would be the year when he grew some courage and asked her out, his only fear being that Harry would somehow start to see Hermione in the same light as he did. Ron did not know what would happen if that were to occur. Harry had everything; money- although his parents and godfather had been murdered for it, property- hell he was living in 'one' of Harry's pieces of real estate right now, the worlds fastest broom- even though it was locked and under guard by a troll in the dungeons of Hogwarts, a spot of their house Quidditch team- or he did until he attacked Malfoy and Umbridge hit him with a lifetime ban on the game, and the world staring at his every move, although public opinion swayed easily from one extreme to the other- and right now it fully tilted to the Boy-Who-Lived being the greatest thing since the invention of the wand! His fears even stretched to thinking that Hermione might secretly harbor feelings for Harry, and he couldn't bear to think about that when the thought occurred to him.  
  
Ron failed to see everything horrible that had happened to Harry and chose to believe that Harry's possessions and fame were reward enough. He didn't know that Harry would have given it all away just to be normal, or to switch places with Ron, and that he would do so in a heartbeat without a second thought. No, Ron never thought of Harry in those terms, he saw Harry as what he wanted to be and would never be. Even after saving the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor last term and experiencing a semblance of fame, he craved more; he knew that he was destined for more. His older brother's consisted of a Dragon Wrangler, a World Renowned Curse Breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Assistant to the Minister of Magic, and now with Fred and George having quit school and Harry 'just giving' them one thousand galleons they opened their own store in Diagon Alley and had already put their prank inventions and truly ingenious creations to use and made enough money to pay Harry back twenty times over! But Harry didn't even want the money back; Fred and George had said something about Harry saying, "needing laughs in the future." Harry had been the one responsible for them getting started and his new dress robes that the twins had given him 'out of the generous nature they had always exuded', no even those didn't come from his brothers, well in a sense it came from his brother but it wasn't the same and Ron felt ashamed of that. What it came down to was Ron being ashamed of himself for being jealous of his best friend.  
  
With the recent news of the attack on Hermione's house Ron had been in a state of near hysterics for the first week. He had been told that Hermione was fine, but that her father had been killed and her mother tortured into madness.  
  
_'Like Neville's parent's,'_ he thought to himself.  
  
Ron was told by his mother by way of Professor Dumbledore that Hermione was in a safe location and being guarded from attack. They said nothing about what was being done for Hermione. Was somebody helping her, what was happening to her where she was? He had sent at least ten owls that had all returned unable to find her, and he was getting incredibly irate, even going off at his sister for telling him that everything going to be alright. Then the news came that Hermione had been moved again, but no one said anything about a second attack. Is this why his family was staying here permanently now? Were the death eaters that determined to get to Harry's friends so they could get him?  
  
_'DAMNIT HARRY, WHAT'VE YOU DONE TO HER!?'_ Ron screamed inside his head.  
  
It was Harry's fault, just by being his friend Hermione's paid with his life, her mother with her sanity. The entire Weasley family had abandoned their home at the Burrow and come to stay here for safety and 'order' business. All the while Harry was off somewhere else, supposedly safer than here, without his two best friends, and absolutely no owls. It had been over a month since Ron had seen or heard from Harry, and although he was assured by order members that he was safe- they still had strange looks on their faces when they said this, as if they didn't know exactly Harry was and what 'safe' meant in Harry's case. And with news of Hermione's second move, he was worried as to why she hadn't been brought here in the first place anyway, was she with Harry, wouldn't she have told him that they were in hiding together, and why were they hiding together? The conspiracy of it all boggled Ron's mind, but presented him with a challenging puzzle that he was determined to piece together. So here he was standing outside the door to the room that Tonks currently inhabited, trying to gleam some shred of information that no one else was letting slip.  
  
The bedroom door was open only a crack, and for a member of the Order of the Phoenix and an Auror, Ron was slightly disappointed at her oversight, but happy to take advantage. He could see that she was holding some sort of mirror in her hands and looking down into it while speaking.  
  
"Can you believe what he did?" the voice from the mirror asked.  
  
Ron tried to place the voice but failed to recognize it from anywhere; he figured that it must have been a new member.  
  
"Bloody Hell right, knocks out two guards under invisibility cloaks without a wand, incapacitates Doge without trying and then portkey's out of there with Hermione, it shouldn't be possible, it's infuriating but it's damn well respectable I say. Dumbledore shouldn'ta been usin' her as bait, that was wrong and we all know, but we're all too in awe of the big man to say somethin'. Harry did the right thing," Tonks finished.  
  
_'Hermione, bait? Harry, portkeyed out of there with her? What's Tonks talking about?'_ Ron asked himself.  
  
"Does anybody know where they went?" the voice from the mirror asked.  
  
"No, and that's the craziest part of all this madness, Harry's somehow..." Tonks stopped when she heard a slight creaking outside her door and slowly stepped to it.  
  
Ron silently cursed himself for trying to take a step closer to the crack so he could try to see the face from the mirror.  
  
"Tonks, Tonks, what's happening?" the voice asked worriedly.  
  
"Shhh..." she said, "I think someone's listening, oh bloody hell I left the door open," Tonks said finally putting a hand on the door.  
  
Ron sighed, grateful that he had not been caught, but the sigh happened to be a little too audible, and Tonks arm reached through the opening in the door and grabbed Ron by the neck and threw him into the room, causing him to land on his backside unceremoniously.  
  
Tonks then looked to the mirror and said, "I'll call you back," Then tossed it onto the small four poster bed.  
  
"What did you hear?" Tonks asked Ron who was still on the floor rubbing his backside.  
  
"Enough to start piecing things together," Ron replied.  
  
"You've got a lot to learn about the correct answers to give, you should have said nothing and I'd have let you leave, now I know you know something and I have to hide from you," she said while raising her wand.  
  
"No, wait, c'mon," Ron tried.  
  
"Sorry," Tonks raised her wand behind her head and then in flinging motion she said, "_Obliviate_."  
  
A second later Ron was staring around the room asking Tonks how get in here and how he hurt his bum.  
  
Tonks laughed and told him a story about how he saw the door open a crack and tried to catch her in her knickers.  
  
Ron bought it, hook, line and sinker, blushed a deep crimson red that was brighter than his hair and scurried from the room embarrassed more than he had ever been.  
  
Tonks then retrieved the mirror and re-called the man she was talking to be before.  
  
"Hey, what happened?" the voice asked.  
  
"Sorry, nothing important, you were saying..." 


	9. Cathartic Spending

**Cathartic Spending:**  
  
Harry woke earlier the next morning with Hermione holding onto his side in a slightly possessive grip. The scent of the shampoo she had used the previous night wafted over him. Sending his semi-conscious mind into a tranquil garden of freshly bloomed lilacs, which he was loathe to leave. The light weight of Hermione's head on his shoulder was soothing, but the feel of her silk clad legs wrapped around him with her pelvis against his hip was causing the garden in his mind to turn to more carnal images. Knowing that all that separated her from him was a thin layer of silk...  
  
_'Don't think about that git! Just apparate out so you can change and do your circuit,'_ he was telling himself.  
  
Harry couldn't apparate out from under her without her head and arm abruptly falling, and that would surely rouse her from her sleep, and he didn't want to do that. So he reached for her hand that was holding onto his side and gently pried it loose to the sound of a slight objection. Harry then noticed that his wand was next to him and placed it in Hermione's palm and carefully closed her fingers around it which seemed to please dreaming version of Hermione. His right hand now very slowly lifted Hermione's head and slid out from under her and pulled his leg free, and quickly placed a pillow where his shoulder was. Satisfied with himself and the serene look on Hermione's face, Harry apparated to his wardrobe room and quickly changed into his workout clothes and left for the training room.  
  
Remus was waiting for him when he entered and thanked him for making sure that he got to bed the previous night.  
  
"Don't sweat it Moony, but I did," Harry said mockingly, "you weigh a ton, do you know that?"  
  
"Sorry about that," Remus said with a dazzling smile.  
  
"What are you doing here at this hour anyway? I run and lift in the mornings... or has that changed as well?" Harry asked.  
  
"No, nothings changed about that. I just thought maybe you'd like some company, and I could do with a bit of physical fitness, Paddy and Prongs are saying that I'm going slack in my old age," Remus laughed while pointing out his friends insults.  
  
The portrait of James Potter that was also boarding Sirius looked up when Remus finished and they stated in unison, "That's not how we said it!"  
  
"Ok, ok, I was just paraphrasing for my own sake," Remus replied to their outburst and waived his hand dismissively to spite his friends.  
  
Harry watched the by play for a moment and then decided that he had better get on with his run. He wasn't particularly feeling that motivated to training this morning; his mind kept drifting back to his bed and the way he felt with Hermione wrapped around him.  
  
_'Snap out of it, you have work to do. Worry about girls some other time!'_

Seeing that Harry had already mounted his treadmill, Remus walked over and mimicked his movement with the presets. Remus saw that Harry had set the presets to eight kilometers with a start at eleven and two tenths kilometers per hour and slowly accelerating over the course of the run to an even sixteen kilometers per hour with a fluctuating incline.

Having never used a treadmill before, Remus took Harry's lead and enjoyed the companionship of running with someone and the leisurely pace. Or rather it was a leisure pace for him.

When Harry called it quits around seven and three quarters kilometers Remus was just starting to really enjoy the run; while Harry was sweating profusely and reigning in his breathing.  
  
Harry looked up at Remus who had barely broken a sweat, cracked a smile and said, "Bloody werewolf strength."  
  
"It had its advantages," Remus mocked still running to try and goad Harry.

The feeling of having his best friends back was doing wonders for his psyche. He was feeling like he was in his early twenties, and now with having Harry around added into the mix he felt like relieving the glory days of pranking.  
  
Harry looked directly at Remus after he mocked him and started, "Remus, I need you to do something for me. In here, this room and this manor; I need you to be my trainer and instructor. Not my friend. Outside the manor, at school, in the world that's another thing; but I need to focus, and I need to make all the accomplishments I can here. This is a serious matter, and I have to say that your jovial nature is throwing me off and making me want to slacken my regimen. So can you please do this, can you be my trainer and instructor, force me to push myself and accept nothing but the absolute maximum results? Force me to learn from my failures? Can you?"  
  
Remus had not expected this at all from Harry, the level of intensity that he put into his words when speaking to him slightly worried him at how hard Harry wanted to be pushed and how hard he had already been pushed. But if it had been working so far, and this is what Harry wanted then Remus would comply- albeit silently begrudging.  
  
"If that is what you want... I'll do it."   
  
"Thank-you," Harry replied now breathing regularly again.  
  
The silence that ensued Harry's request of Remus was what Harry was used to in his training. Even though as he started with the bench press he started to think he might have hurt Remus with his words. So after his first set, Harry turned to Remus and made sure that he knew that he was just focused on training and didn't mean anything personally against him.  
  
Remus wanted to crack a smile at Harry's semi-apology, and felt better knowing that all Harry wanted was focus here and not to end up becoming a cold, emotionless wizard. But instead of taking advantage of Harry's openness Remus simply nodded his understanding and they returned to lifting.  
  
An hour and half later, Harry and Remus finished their lifting when Remus started to engage Harry about what would happen during today's practical, but Harry cut him off before he even got past the first word.  
  
"I'm taking that day off you offered me yesterday," he stated flatly.  
  
"Oh, and what will you be doing with you day off?" Remus inquired with a raised eyebrow and arms folded across his bare chest knowing full well it involved Hermione.  
  
"Helping a friend, and that is all you need to know," Harry said and apparated to his bathing room leaving Remus with a slightly bemused expression.

James, Sirius and Remus all looked at eachother with one raised eyebrow each and arms folded across their chests.

* * *

Harry closed the doors to his bathing room quietly, turned on the water in the shower and stepped out of his shorts and trainers while allowing the water to warm up. Once he could see the steam, he stepped in and enjoyed an unusually long shower. 

Running over his progress in his mind, the effects of having Remus as a trainer, and taking care of Hermione; all in all this was turning out to be the best summer he had ever experienced. He objected to saying the best summer he had because in his mind he had never actually had a summer holiday. There was always something at the Dursley's, or being put back at number four for '_protection_'. Even now, he wasnt here by his own choice; he was here because of fate.

A slightly pruned, but very much relaxed and happy Harry toweled off in the shower, then apparated back to his wardrobe room. There he chose clothes that would better suit going in upper society muggle London.

Now that he understood the different kinds of clothing that he possessed, thanks to Remus, he was better suited to judge which garments would garner him the respect he would require. He chose a pair of black Dolce and Gabbana custom tailored slacks by wizard modifiers that were charmed to fit him as he grew, matching dress shoes, black socks, a fashionable shiny black belt with silver gate, and a form fitting- white button down dress shirt that he wore with the cuffs rolled up mid forearm. Then finished off the '_ensemble_' as Sirius called the complete version of an outfit, with a black suit jacket. He left the top three buttons of the dress shirt undone, enjoying the open of feel of it and chose a silver hair tie from the cabinetry.  
  
Standing in front of the mirror in his wardrobe room was a very different looking Harry Potter. Almost sixteen years old, and already looking more like a nineteen year old version of himself. A cross between his fathers muscular build and features, save his mothers eyes that stood prominently out for all to see- thanks to his contacts, and Sirius Black with his no longer short messy black hair sitting on top of his head, instead having grown it out and pulled it back so he would look '_respectable_'.  
  
Harry, pleased with the way he looked, but not too sure about how he would fit into the role of upper society muggle Londoner looking this way, he apparated to one of the lavatory's at Harvey Nick's- so no one would see him come in. He left the loo and headed for the fourth floor where he made reservations at restaurant that offered a view of Edinburgh through the large glass panels that made up the walls.  
  
He had only expected to be accepted here with the way he looked; he had not expected to have people staring at him and appraising him with a look of awe on their faces.  
  
_'Don't get a big head, it's only the suit and money they see,_' he told himself.  
  
It was still early in the morning and there didn't seem to be more than a handful of staff on hand in the restaurant. This allowed Harry to step up to the nicely dressed man he guessed to be the maitre d' without waiting in a queue.  
  
"Excuse me," Harry said.  
  
Having seen the way that this young man was dressed, and the way that he held himself himself when he turned to face the patron, the maitre d' introduced himself quickly and made himself of service, "I am Gabriel, may I help you?"  
  
"I hope so. I'd like to make a reservation for this afternoon, please."   
  
"Very well sir, but seeing as how it's Saturday we are..." he began  
  
Harry sensing that the man was about to tell him that the restaurant had already been completely set for reservations, decided to use unorthodox means for a wizard to secure a private table; for Hermione and himself at twelve thirty later that day.  
  
"We do have an opening at twelve thirty, sir. A very private table, with a spectacular view of the garden below and the rooftop atriums, would that be satisfactory?" the maitre d' inquired.  
  
"That would be perfect," Harry replied without nodding slightly.  
  
The maitre d' thought that there was something about this young man that just seemed so surreal. Being unable place the feeling however, he started to erase a name in the restaurants reservation log and pen in...  
  
"I'm sorry, what name would you like on the reservation?" Gabriel asked  
  
"Will you be here later today?" Harry asked before answering his question.  
  
"Yes sir, I will be on hand until this evening, why sir?"  
  
"Then please leave the name blank, I am sure that you will remember me," Harry said staring at the man.  
  
"Of course. I see, I will have your table waiting for you when you arrive with your guest at half past noon. Would you like to have a wine set aside to be waiting for you?"  
  
"No thank-you, if my guest would like a glass, she can choose for herself, thank-you," Harry resonded, then turned and left the restaurant in search of the women's department on the second floor.  
  
Having somehow gotten lost when he took a left turn in the women's shoe area, he now found himself surrounded by lingerie and trying desperately to hide the blush he felt fighting to break to the surface.

It was all he could do not to turn beet red, and when a pretty young woman who looked to be in her early twenties, the same height as Hermione, only with black hair and slightly curvier features and blue eyes tapped him on his shoulder; it was a true test of his ability to remain calm.  
  
"Can I help you sir," the young girl asked with an amused expression on her face. Or it was amused until Harry turned around and her jaw nearly dropped.  
  
"Please, I've somehow ended up in the lingerie department, and I'm a little out of place as you can see," Harry said trying not to smile too much and keep his eyes locked on hers and not the thongs he was surrounded by.  
  
"I can see that," the girl said holding back a fit of laughter, "follow me."  
  
"Thank-you, Sarah," he saw from her store identification what her name was.  
  
Now safely back in the shoe department, she asked him if there was anything else he needed help with or if he'd like a guide in the event that he got lost again.  
  
Harry replied, "well... I'd like to buy something for a friend of mine, something nice, but not outrageous. Some of the things I've seen here today are mad," Harry said thinking about the strange coloured shirts, pants and fashion styles he had passed.  
  
Guess that the recipient would be a girl Sarah asked, "Do you know her size?"  
  
Harry hadn't even thought about asking Hermione that, he had just assumed he would know, so he said, "no... but she's as tall as you are, a little less curvy..." he said trying not to blush again, "... slender, does any of that help?"  
  
"A little," Sarah said, seeing that Harry had absolutely no clue. "What would you like to get her?"  
  
Harry was amused that he had missed the fact that Sarah had automatically assumed that he was buying for a girl and had only now caught her keen observation. So he smiled and told her what he was looking for, "A dress would be an appropriate gift I think, and shoes to match, and the other things that women need... she doesn't have anything anymore, she's lost all of her possessions so I'm getting her something to wear for this afternoon and then we'll be back and she can pick out everything that she wants."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that," Sarah said with sympathy in her voice and body language. "Does she need everything?" she asked raising her eyebrows hoping that he would understand the implied question.  
  
Harry catching on to what '_everything_' meant by the expression that Sarah was wearing, nodded his head and didn't say another word; thinking he might embarrass himself.  
  
"Ok, well why don't you have a seat here, and try to figure out her shoe size by memory," she said offering him a sly smile, "and I will go and pick out a dress that I think you'll like, savvy?" she asked.

_'Savvy?'_ he asked himself.  
  
"Thank-you," Harry said as she walked away and started to look over the shoes.

He had never seen Hermione in anything other than trainers, and the sensible shoes she wore with her uniform at school. Neither of those would go with a dress though. He knew that it was a hopeless situation, but at least it was another learning experience- and he was definitely not going to give in and ask for assistance so easily. It was quickly turning into a personal test for Harry to find the right shoes for Hermione.

_'No, no, no, not those, not those... what the hell are these? Shite, I've done it, I've gone completely 'round the bend,'_ he said to himself looking around the ominous ladies shoe department. _'I'm so glad Ron isn't here to see this.'  
_  
Sarah noticing exactly what Harry was wearing concluded that money was of no object and went in search of something stellar.

She ended up finding a Stella McCartney silk short dress that would match what the young man was currently wearing splendidly.  
  
The dress, which was more of a skirt, was made of entirely of silk, and would be held on by thin straps that wrapped around the neck. It had a small shield of fine black mesh that hid a small portion of skin just south of the neck. The length was just enough to fall mid-thigh in the front and had a train that fell mid-calf in the back. Sarah also picked out a matching pair of panties for the girl- from what the young man had said about her losing everything. She used herself as the guide size for both the dress and the undergarment.  
  
She boxed up the '_**McCartney**_' with the other item underneath the dress, and headed back to see how her customer had faired in picking out a pair of shoes to complete the set.  
  
Sarah was surprised to see that Harry had picked out a pair of sleek looking, low heeled, slip on black Jimmy Choo's. They were little more than a pair of black sandals with a slight heel to them, but Sarah was impressed at his selection and sensibility to buy shoes that would not hurt after only an hours worth of wear.  
  
Harry saw Sarah return ten minutes later and pointed out his selection and was happy to have received an appreciative an enthusiastic eye. He didn't care what name was on the heels so long as Hermione was happy with what he bought her to wear for today. He asked what Sarah had picked up and she showed him.

The viewing resulted in Harry dropping his jaw in amazement. It was impossible for Harry to not instantly start to imagine Hermione wearing it and then imagining it tossed to the side next to his bed- not necessarily in that order however in Harry's head.  
  
_'Quit thinking like that!'_  
  
Sarah didn't miss his reaction and lightly giggled at his momentary disposition.  
  
"This girl is quite lucky for you to be doing this, you know? You find me when you come back later today with her, understand?" she asked knowing that he would be back later, but only as a baggage carrier.  
  
Harry nodded in acquiescence as she boxed up the dress again, the shoes in their separate box and rung him up at the counter near the elevators.  
  
"Comes to £1,135 even," Sarah said.  
  
Harry pulled his dragon hide wallet out from the inside pocket of his jacket, and asked, "Credit Card?"  
  
"Of course sir," she replied confused that he would even ask that.  
  
Harry handed over the tiny piece of plastic, and watched her slide it through a machine. She handed back his card after she had swiped it through. Harry placed the card back in his wallet, then watched on as her hand reached for another machine that Harry could see was rolling out a piece of tiny white parchment, which she then ripped across the perforated edge and offered it to him along with a pen.  
  
Noticing the dotted line at the bottom with a computer print out of his full name below, he took a guess hoping he wasn't mistaken and signed his name next to the X. Sarah retrieved the receipt from Harry and pulled the parchment apart, separated one yellow and one white copy from the document that Harry had just signed and handed him the yellow copy while saying, "Your receipt sir."  
  
Not missing a beat Harry said, "Thank-you for your help, I'll be sure to find you when we come back."  
  
"Not a problem sir, I hope she enjoys the dress," Sarah said with a knowing smile that Harry didn't understand.

_'Not too bad for my first shopping experience.'_

Harry then took the bag with the dress and shoes and headed back to the men's loo, where he apparated silently back to his bedroom at Potter Manor.

* * *

At fifteen minutes till nine in the morning Harry returned to his bedroom to find Hermione still sprawled out on his bed in a free fall position clutching his wand in one hand, and her arm securely holding onto the pillow that had replaced his body.

Harry walked to the bed trying to keep the sounds of his shoes wooden soles meeting the hard wood floor to a minimum. The sight of her sleeping peacefully was making him envious. Of all the nights he spent alone when he was hurting, no one had ever come to him offering him solace and companionship. But now he was in the position to give what he had wanted for himself, and it made him feel good that he was able to actually help someone. That by helping Hermione he was taking the first steps towards rectifying the wrongs he blamed himself for in the world. Helping her gave him a sense that he was doing good in the world finally.  
  
He sat down on the edge of the bed gingerly putting his hand on her left shoulder to wake her.  
  
She stirred slowly, blinking her eyes at the incoming light- allowing them to focus and dilate to the correct measure so she could see properly. The stately looking figure sitting on the edge of the bed she did not recognize had her roused and going on the offensive; now that she had Harry's wand pointed at his own throat.  
  
Having not meant to scare her first thing in the morning Harry raised both his hands like a muggle criminal surrendering himself to the authorities.  
  
"Hold on Hermione. It's just me, Harry. Everything's ok, I didn't mean to scare you," he said slowly.  
  
With her free hand Hermione quickly rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and then realized it was Harry that she was threatening with his own wand.  
  
"Oh Merlin!" Hermione nearly screamed apologetically while lowering the wand but not dropping it. Then she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.  
  
Harry returned her hug with equal force, squeezing her and whispering encouraging words to her.  
  
"Harry I didn't know... I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I was scared," she rushed out.  
  
"Hermione, its fine, you didn't hurt me. I know you. I know you wouldn't have hurt me if you knew it was me. I didn't mean to frighten you," Harry said trying to take the blame from the situation while still holding onto her.  
  
Hermione wasn't letting go anytime soon. Harry had unwillingly sent her defenses to full alert when he woke her up and wasn't beneath her like she thought he should have been.  
  
"Harry, I..." she tried to say.  
  
"Shhh... it's ok," he said and brought a hand to the back of her head.  
  
Hermione wasn't crying, and she still wasn't ready to let go. But having Harry here right now, making it all alright for her, was helping to calm her.  
  
"I'm going to go get you breakfast and then we're going to Diagon Alley, to get you your new wand remember?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes," she replied loosening her grip.  
  
"Good. I went out and got you something to wear today so you didn't have to wear what you came here in. I... I hope you like it, but if you don't then that's ok and you can wear something out of my wardrobe," he said now completely out of Hermione's death grip and standing up.  
  
_'Merlin he's good at calming me, and look at him, he's gorgeous! I can't believe I almost cursed him, Harry!'_ Hermione thought.  
  
"You'll find what I bought you in the bathing room. There's also a new set of toiletries for you to use. So come on up you get," he said offering her his hand and trying to remember Mrs. Weasley's cheery bedside manner.  
  
Hermione accepted his hand and kneeled up on the mattress, and then stepped off the bed letting her bare feet hit the charmed warm wooden floor.  
  
"Just a quick shower, we have a busy day ahead of us," Harry said with a sly smile on his face that caused Hermione to blush, "Go on, get in the loo!"  
  
Hermione quickly walked across the bedroom and into the bathing room where she shut the doors behind her.  
  
Harry seeing the doors closed hoped that she would like his gift. He then apparated to the kitchen where he called for Tory.  
  
POP!  
  
"Good morning Harry, what can Tory get for you this fine morning?" she asked happily.  
  
"Hmmm, I'm not that hungry Tory, maybe a couple pieces of toast and some tea. I'm really here to ask you if you could make Hermione a real breakfast; eggs, toast, sausage and orange juice, can you do that for me?" Harry asked.  
  
"It is not problem sir; would you like it here or in your bedchamber?" Tory inquired.  
  
"Would you please send it up to my room?" Harry asked.

_'Send it up to my room, I sound like one of Petunia's import drama movie's.'_  
  
"If that is what you would like," Tory said with a smile.  
  
"Thanks Tory," Harry said, returning her smile with one of his own.  
  
Harry disapparated out of the kitchen as Tory set to work on his and Hermione's breakfast. He reappeared in the sub-basement of the manor, and started searching for the trunk he knew was stored down here. It took him ten minutes to find the dust covered storage trunk.  
  
Looking slightly larger than an average school trunk, Harry pressed his right thumb to the marked indentation that was at the very center of the trunks top. When he pressed his thumb to the trunk, it shrunk the size of a deck of playing cards and was then placed in Harry's left back pocket for use later today.  
  
Hermione didn't take a long luxurious shower, nor did she simply get in and get out. The three different fountain heads that washed her body from all angles was too therapeutic and massage-like to not enjoy thoroughly. So after her '_christening_' of the shower, and fifteen minutes later Hermione ignored the towel instead using Harry's wand to dry herself and her hair completely. The next thing she did was to brush her teeth, something she had not done in over a week and after using the new toothbrush Harry had left for her, she kept running her tongue over her now clean teeth enjoying the smooth feel of her soft pink tongue against the enamel of her near perfect white teeth- an advantage/disadvantage to having parents as dentists. Hermione put her new toothbrush into the cup on the side of the sink that held Harry's, pleased with herself that she felt good at seeing them next to each other and able to do what she thought she wouldnt have been able to do without breaking down. She was still nude after having brushed her teeth and was now standing in front of the mirror judging herself.

Hermione was happy with her body, just above skinny, she had the appearance that most muggle women strived to achieve and fashion models starved themselves for. She wasn't as curvy in certain areas as some of the other girls at Hogwarts, but she never before had the inclination to care either. Never being attracted to any of the boys at school; she felt that she was too advanced or too old for those that were in her year. She had never caught the eye of any of the older students that she might have had a fleeting fancy for, well that was until Viktor came during fourth year for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. When Viktor had asked her to the Yule Ball she had been actually acting like a giggling school girl in private council; to her own endless chastising. She had reveled in the jealous looks and behavior that Ron had sent her way, even when she appeared to be upset with him. Hermione knew that Ron fancied her, but he just wasn't what she wanted or needed. To her he was surrogate little brother trying desperately to gain attention that she was constantly trying to get to grow up. There had been a few moments in third year when she thought about him in a more than friendly manner, and then again in fifth year when Harry seemed to be losing his mind and they only had each other; but it never went beyond those few moments. And she hated knowing that Ron still held out for her and she was going to have to tell him sometime soon that they could never be more than friends. Hermione wanted someone with experience and knowledge that she could compete with, someone who could protect her if necessary, someone who would love her unconditionally, and someone that would let her make a name for herself- she would never end up just someone's wife. She was secretly beginning to think that she might have found him already, but knew in the back of her mind that '_traumatic_' experiences sometimes led to this sort of thing- she had read about it of course. This was some odd form of _'stockholm's syndrome'. _On the other hand, maybe this was fate showing its hand, albeit prematurely. She was sixteen, about to be seventeen in September. In September she could deal with these life altering issues as an adult. Now however, she would carry on and more than willingly accept the help that Harry freely offered her.  
  
Hermione opened the white paper sack with Harvey Nichol's printed on the side in silver lettering and pulled out one long black box, and one smaller light blue box.

She opened the smaller box and dropped her jaw in disbelief.

Hermione had never been a materialistic person, but she still had a knowledge and respect for the finer things that life could offer. And at close to three hundred pounds for a pair of Jimmy Choo's sandal heals she was astounded.  
  
_'If these are in the blue box, then what on Earth did Harry put in the other one?'_ she asked herself almost reluctant to open the other box.  
  
Tempted beyond her own belief, she quickly lifted the lid to the long black box and marveled at the silk dress staring back at her.

A black Stella McCartney dress was just lying there in this box waiting for her to wear.

Hermione was in shock. Harry was her best friend sure, but this was a touch extravagant. The manor was astounding and Harry had made mention once before about this being '_one_' of the estates he owned. Did he really have absolutely no worry towards his personal finances finances so that he could go out and buy extravagant clothing for his friends? Or was he trying to send her a message?  
  
_'No, this is just who Harry is. Generous, and too stupid to know how truly great he is,'_ she reasoned out.  
  
Her hands slightly shaking, reached out and gripped the dress by the silk that was responsible for covering her breasts and held it in front of her to the mirror.  
  
_'How did he know my size?'_ she wondered. _'Probably guessed.'  
_  
While holding the dress up to her, she looked back at the box and noticed another small piece of black material folded up in the corner, and when she picked it up and it unfolded itself Hermione dropped the dress onto the bathing room floor and brought a hand to her mouth to stifle the laughing fit that she was about to endure. She could only imagine Harry standing in a shop asking for a dress and then trying to get his point across that the girl he was buying for would need _'everything'_ and the clerk not fully comprehending and Harry having get over his embarrassment and just come out and say it.

_'Doesn't Harry know about clothes cleaning spells? That would have been too good to have seen that scene unfold, poor Harry.'_

Her face was a light shade of pink by the time she came to her senses and pulled the tag off the small black panties and pulled them on, then slid the dress over her head and adjusted the neck fittings to suit her better. After she had the dress on and the neck straps adjusted to comfort; she pulled out two thin strips of a very strong double sided invisible adhesive and attached a piece to her chest on either side and press down on the dress so that there would be no sudden _'exposure'_ should she fall or something equally as embarrassing befall her. Hermione stepped into the shoes and arranged herself in the mirror, pleased with the overall transformation; from emotional wreck to a slightly more confident and much more stylish version of herself, she picked up Harry's wand and opened the double doors.

Harry was sitting on the sofa eating a piece of toast and not worrying about the crumbs that were landing in his lap she saw when she opened the doors.  
  
Harry looked up from the piece of toast he was eating and felt the effects of the stunning curse hit him dead in the chest. Although he didn't pass out, or go rigid- at least not visibly. He was amazed at how beautiful Hermione looked and that was nearly as powerful a sensation.

Harry put the piece of toast he was about to bite into back onto the silver serving platter and said, "Wow!"  
  
For all of the mental training that Harry had undergone, expansion of his vocabulary and language skills, his mind reverted to basic instincts when he saw her standing there in the black dress and his wand in her hand.  
  
Hermione's head bent down slightly and mumbled a thanks while trying not to show that she was turning pink.  
  
"Don't hide. You're beautiful... don't ever try to hide that from anyone."   
  
Her head raised and a large teeth baring smile appeared on her face. Hermione nodded in compliance before sitting down in the chair off to his side and tucking into the eggs she assumed he brought for her.  
  
"Thank-you for the dress, and the shoes... and the panties," she said in between a mouthful of eggs and orange juice.  
  
Harry who had been drinking his tea when she mentioned thanking him for the dress and the shoes merely smiled, but when she continued on and thanked him for the panties he nearly choked on his tea.  
  
Hermione, who had been planning this since she saw them in the box under the dress, gave Harry a smug and victorious look before finishing her breakfast.  
  
"Fine. You got me, but I am not telling you the story!" Harry said once he was sure that only one lung was half filled with scalding hot tea.  
  
Smiling, and still looking smug, Hermione nodded and pushed the plate away from her and asked, "Ready?"  
  
"May I have my wand first please?" he asked.  
  
Hermione looked down towards the wand and then reluctantly handed over his wand; watching as he conjured a black hand-bag for her so she could keep a wand out of site. Then he handed the wand and the purse back to her for personal safety.  
  
"Aren't you going to disguise your self?" she concernedly asked while she stood up from her seat.  
  
"No need. You're the only one who can see what I really look like until I take the charm off," he stated as he rose as well.  
  
"What do you mean? I didn't see you cast a second spell. You didn't even move you hands?" she asked in a completely confused manner.  
  
"What I've done is really more of a personal mental concealment that hides what a person perceives when they look at me. I'm just letting you see past it, watch," he said as he blinked his eyes and Hermione saw Remus Lupin looking back at her. "See, anyone watching will see Remus Lupin member of the Order of the Phoenix and werewolf, escorting Hogwart's resident genious student Hermione Granger and marked target for her association with Harry Potter around Diagon Alley. But before we go I suggest you take one of my robes, I may be able to pass for normal in Diagon Alley, you I regret to say would stick out like a sore thumb; but don't worry, that dress doesn't matter, we'll get to show you off later."  
  
Hermione smiled radiantly at when he made the emphasis on showing her off instead of the dress, even if she did feel slightly odd at being shown off.

"If I'm Hogwart's resident genious, what does that make you, The-Boy-Who-Lived _blank_?" she asked coyly.

"Idiot savant," he said quickly eliciting another giggle from Hermione.

Oddly, the odd giggle wasn't unbecoming of Hermione like Harry had originally thought.  
  
Harry summoned one of his finer day to day robes, which were still better than most of what everyone else wore and handed it to Hermione; who put her arms through the sleeves and clasped it together at the neck.  
  
"Ready?" He asked.  
  
"I asked you first," she wittingly replied.  
  
Harry pulled another blank square piece of plastic from his right trouser pocket and held it out to Hermione who also took a hold on it.  
  
"Desire."  
  
There was the familiar sensation of being hooked behind their navels and both Harry and Hermione disappeared.

They reappeared in the apparition/portkey arrival station of Diagon Alley.  
  
To the world around them a well kept Remus Lupin was escorting a very beautiful young girl around the alley and into the shops searching for whatever they required. They did not see Harry Potter escorting his best friend through Diagon Alley to keep her mind off the pain of losing her parents.  
  
Their first stop had been in Ollivanders', where an even madder looking version of the graying wizard that what Harry remembered; slid across the wall on his shelf ladder and shouted a excited greeting. Ollivander clambered down his ladder and landed behind his desk asking what he could do for the both of them.  
  
Hermione spoke up first, "my wand is either missing or has been destroyed I'm not entirely sure, I would like to purchase a replacement."  
  
"Of course my dear! Wait here, I think exact wand for you, it will be just one moment..." Ollivander disappeared for a second and then reappeared as if he hadn't even left before, holding a slim box out to Hermione.  
  
Hermione had barely touched the wand before she took her hand back and said, "Sorry Mr. Ollivander, perhaps you'd be able to find me a wand that the same properties as this one," she said removing Harry's wand from her hand bag.  
  
"Why... this is young Mr. Potter's wand, how did you come into possession of this?" Ollivander was leaning over the counter now leering at Hermione.  
  
"He was kind enough to loan it to me until I found a replacement," she stated firmly.  
  
"I see, but you will not find another wand like Mr. Potter's Ms. Granger, I have only ever crafted two like this... Holly, eleven inches, with a phoenix feather core," he replied.  
  
"Perhaps one with similar qualities Ollivander," Harry said as Remus, "would you object to finding a wand that was crafted out of the same wood, I've read that a Holly tree is known as the _'life'_ tree, why don't we give that a _'wave'_?" he asked with Dumbledore like smirk.  
  
Ollivander smiled knowingly and quickly ran down the aisle of wands behind him instead of disappearing this time. He returned with a wand made of Holly, eight and quarter inches, with a Chimaera's heartstring for the core.  
  
Hermione returned Harry's wand to her purse before reaching for the offered wand. As soon as her fingers touched the handle she could feel the sensation begin, and then as her hand fully grasped the wand and removed it from the slim wooden box, she felt the warmth spread through her body. It lacked the ability to raise the hairs on the back of her neck like Harry's did, but this was more than sufficient, this was near as good as Harry's was.  
  
"I'll take it," she happily to Ollivander and then looked to Harry who was also happy and smiling at her.  
  
"Thank-you Ollivander, what do we owe you for the wand?" Harry asked reaching for his ornate money box.  
  
"This is one of my more rare wands... fifteen galleons," he said almost sadly that he was charging Remus so much.  
  
Harry pulled out the money box from his inside jacket pocket, spoke the amount of galleons he need and then slid the lid back and pour the money on the counter in a neat fashion.  
  
Both Hermione and Ollivander looked a little taken with the money box; so, before either of them could question him he returned the silver box to his jacket pocket and bid Ollivander a fond farewell then placed a hand on Hermione's right shoulder and directed her out of the shop while whispering in her ear, "I'll tell you at lunch." This seemed to appease her for the time.  
  
Hermione's new wand and Harry's wand were now both tucked securely in her purse.  
  
Hermione predictably led him into Flourish and Blotts bookstore next where he immediately picked up a basket. Charmed to be feather light and expandable; he was sure to need the basket for this experience.  
  
"Are you sure about this? I mean... I know you said I could get whatever I wanted but did you really mean that?" she asked  
  
"I meant what I said Hermione, but I'm not buying you the store," he said convincing her that he had meant exactly what he said.  
  
She beamed back at him and then started weaving her way through the customers that were already in the shop. Harry had the idea to tell her that some of the books she had purchased on transfiguration and charms were nothing compared to the texts and tomes that were back in his library. But when he realized that Hermione wasn't always going to be living with him and had probably thought about that as well he just followed her around the store and caught the books she either threw back at him to place in the basket for her, or by her carefully aiming the books at basket and placing them there herself. After a while it started to become a game. That was until he made mention of Madam Pince having it out with her for treating books this way; that had changed her attitude, and she was now carefully placing the books she wanted into the basket.  
  
A very long, but very enjoyable hour and half later Harry had purchased 68 books for Hermione and spent well over one thousand galleons. He thought it was well worth it; but when the man at the counter handed him the final tally Hermione's eye grew to the size of saucers and looked like she wanted to apologize. Harry didn't pay her any mind though. He paid the man for the books and before leaving the shop enlarged the trunk he'd been carrying in his back pocket, right next to the counter. He started lowering the books into the trunk by category, made sure that they wouldn't rattle around and be damaged in transit, closed the lid and pressed his thumb to the indentation pad shrinking it and placing it back into his pocket for safe keeping. Not once, from the time of the price being mentioned to the point where Harry closed the trunk back up and pocketed it did Hermione's huge eyes and disbelieving expression falter.

Harry again noticed her getting ready to question him and told her again that he'd tell her all about it over lunch, and with the way things were shaping up... they were going to having a very long luncheon.  
  
Their next stop was Madame Malkin's. Harry was given the opportunity to sit in a very casual sitting room and read the latest issue of Witch Weekly- which he despised, while Hermione was escorted to the fitting room by one of the shops attendants. There weren't any articles discussing/reporting on him, thank Merlin, but Gilderoy Lockhart was still the wizarding worlds number one bachelor- even with sitting in St. Mungo's trying to figure out who he is himself. Gilderoy was also still the winner of the wizard's best smile award. Another wizard who was waiting had tried to engage him conversation about waiting on girls but Harry wasn't having any of it. He wasn't impatient, just excited to see what Hermione would choose for herself. He wasn't surprised however to see that she had chosen an array of modest every day robes to go with her new school robes and a few nice cloaks for winter, nothing outlandish, but still posh.  
  
Hermione was smiling when she appeared from behind the curtain that separated the front of the store and the fitting rooms, and she nearly ran to Harry to tell him which robes she had bought and how she had taken it easy on him in this shop. The fact that she was dealing better with letting Harry help her with her purchases was actual a nice feeling, better than Ron would have dealt with it. And a much nicer face to look at when he received a smile for helping as well.  
  
Another one hundred and fifty galleons lighter, and still not a dent put into his trust account at Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Harry was ready to take Hermione into muggle London.

Having only been one of two customers at Madam Malkin's that day, Hermione's robes didn't take that long to tailor and get out to her. Even with the additional growth, stain, anti-wrinkle and a warmth charm that could be activated with a single word during the winter season at Hogwarts. Harry put the robes in the trunk next to Hermione's books and returned it to his pocket afterwards. He had asked her where she would like to go shopping in London, not wanting to assume that she would just go where he got the dress, he wanted to be sure that she had every option available to her.  
  
"Oh I don't know, let's just go where you got this dress," Hermione said as she walked beside him to the apparition/portkey area. Harry only smiled back at her and handed her another piece of plastic to touch. When their fingers touched she smiled back and waiting for the word and the tug.  
  
"Harvey."

* * *

They landed in a small stall in the men's loo where Hermione fell forward into Harry when they reappeared. His arms wrapped around her and held her to him for a second before righting her on her own two feet.  
  
"Thanks," she mumbled.  
  
"Don't mention it," he replied.  
  
Harry opened the door to the u-bend and made sure that there wasn't anyone in the lavatory before he motioned Hermione to come out. She peered around the sides of the stall walls and then walked over to where Harry was standing next to the sinks.  
  
"The men's loo?" she asked.  
  
"Safest place to portkey in without being seen. And you can't apparate yet so there weren't many options to choose from," Harry said looking around the rest room.  
  
"Does that mean you're going to teach me how to apparate?" Hermione hopefully said.  
  
"Yes, but no more questions until lunch ok?"  
  
"I can deal with that," she said as she took off Harry's robe and handed it to him.  
  
Harry took the robe apparated back to the manor, threw it on the bed, then apparated back to the lav where Hermione had only just blinked her eyes since Harry had left.  
  
"Shall we?" he asked gesturing towards to door.  
  
"Let's," she said waiting for him to open the door for her.  
  
Harry taking his cue, pulled the door open, and luckily the lavatories were in a hallway concealed from the rest of the store so there wasn't any chance of someone spotting a young couple coming out from the men's room together.  
  
Hermione seemed to know exactly where she was going.

Harry followed as she instinctively wove her way through the many aisles and departments, bypassed all the offered perfume samples and free make-up trials- which Harry thought she didn't need, and found her way to the women's fashion department. She waved over one of the free department assistants before turning back to Harry and saying, "I want you to know how much I appreciate you doing this... all of this, I don't know how I'm going to repay you but..." she never got the opportunity to finish because the assistant had chosen that moment to finally make her way over and offer her help breaking the somber moment.  
  
If Sarah had not shown up, Harry did not know what he would have said in return to Hermione. He might have chosen to rebuff her and tell her he didn't want her to pay him back, just to enjoy everything; or he may have just been silent and stared into her eyes. Why she had chosen that moment to say something of that manner to him, he would never know, but it filled him with a sense of warmth and happiness and duty. Harry would never let anything hurt Hermione again, she was his best friend who may be the smartest witch at Hogwarts, but she still needed to be protected and he would be the one to be there for her through the thick of it all.  
  
"It's good to see you again sir," Sarah said before either Hermione of Harry could start.  
  
"Thank-you Sarah," Harry replied with a nod.  
  
"I see by the dress, that you're the friend Mr. Potter mentioned. Do you like it?" she asked.  
  
"Very much, thank-you," she replied.  
  
"Sarah, how did you know my name?" Harry cut in.  
  
"Oh, it was on the receipt from this morning. I didn't really look at your credit card, but the receipt had your full name printed across the bottom," she said and then turned to Hermione, "shall we miss?"  
  
Hermione nodded and they both started towards a set of doors set in the corner of the building buried in the women's fashion department.  
  
"These are our private fitting rooms, I'll have a couple of the girls gather a sample of everything we have and bring it in and you can choose what you would like, or like to see fitted and then we can go from there, savvy?" Sarah expertly questioned and stated at the same time.  
  
"Mr. Potter, its up to the miss, whether you wait outside in those seats over there..." she gestured to a row off seat off to the side of the private dressing rooms, "... or is she wants you to accompany her. Each of these rooms comes with a changing room and a seating area. It's her choice."  
  
"Harry will be inside with me," Hermione stated, "and please call me Hermione."  
  
"Of course, this way please," she lead them through the first door and down a corridor that was painted a cream color with white trim running throughout and doors on either side separated by a generous distance.  
  
They stopped in front of the third door down the corridor on the right side and Sarah showed them in. She then gestured for Harry to have a seat on the sofa and Hermione to get comfortable for a moment while she took her measurements and then left.  
  
"She certainly knows what she's doing doesn't she?" Harry asked.  
  
"It is what she does for a living, all the assistants here will be like that," Hermione replied.  
  
"I've never been shopping so you'll have to fill me in on all the important tid-bits I'm clueless about," Harry stated.  
  
"You've never been shopping?" Hermione asked a little shocked.  
  
"If you don't count when I was given a list of groceries and sent to the market to get them, or buying my school supplies at Diagon Alley, then yes I have never been shopping."  
  
"Before you ask, I've been wearing my _'cousins' _cast offs for the past 15 years. Haven't you ever wondered why everything was always at least three sizes too big for me?" Harry pointed out a little disappointed that Hermione had missed this fact.  
  
Hermione felt guilty that Harry had never been shopping before and as his first experience he was providing Hermione with an entire wardrobe.  
  
"I never really thought about it. I saw you in your school uniform, and I just assumed that you were still attached to muggle fashion. Or something along those lines," she offered.  
  
"Please don't worry about it. I have everything that I could ever ask for now, and I'm enjoying seeing you smile and light up when you get something new. I have to say I don't think I've ever seen you so happy as when we were in Flourish and Blotts earlier, it made me slightly tingly, if I'm being honest," Harry stared at her while he said this.  
  
Hermione blushed a light shade of pink and smiled broadly at him, and was about to say something before there was a knock at the door; Sarah along with three other shop assistants came in with what looked like one of everything in the department to Harry.  
  
The experience with Hermione in the private Harvey Nichol's dressing room was memorable to say the least. Hermione in true girlish fashion, tried on everything in site, and discarded almost all of what she tried on, except for about a little more than a quarters worth of everything the assistants brought in. It was interesting for Harry to have a dichotomy for Hermione now, seeing a completely different side to her.

Harry was pleased to see her in a vast array of jeans, skirts, trousers, blouses, jackets, t-shirts, v-necks, sleeveless's, dress shirts, blazers, ever kind of fabric, sunglasses, hats, shoes- Harry couldn't believe that Hermione had a fetish for shoes at the age 17, then there were the undergarments where Harry politely excused himself from the room when they were uncovered and pointed out. After fifteen minutes, Hermione called him back in and was blushing even more than he was, he obviously wasn't doing a very good job of hiding his own blushing when it concerned Hermione and some of the pieces of _'string'_ he saw on the table.

She had settled in the end for quite a few pairs of jeans all different colors and different styles, a couple pairs of fashionable leather boots, trainers, sandal heels- like Harry had bought earlier, some strappy high heeled shoes- that Harry had seen earlier this morning and couldn't fathom how women walked in them, a plethora of shirts that she had picked from each variety presented to her, no hats, a small platinum feminine watch- which fit perfectly on her lithe wrist without any alterations, he didn't get to see which of the undergarments she had chosen- and he was slightly disappointed, but embarrassed that Hermione had caught him trying to see, and lastly three jackets- one a fashionable white leather jacket that fit her like it was made for her, a black pea coat, a corduroy jacket that made her look like she was one of the professors at a uni. If Hermione had been had been worried about the price of all the books Harry had bought her at Flourish and Blotts; that was nothing compared to the anxiety she felt now. She kept coming back to Harry saying that this was his first shopping experience and he was spending it spending on Hermione. Harry actually looked please when Hermione would disappear into the dressing room and come back out and ask his opinion, and he would more than often say that she looked good no matter what she wore, but at least said that maybe a different color, or that doesn't look good with that blouse.

She was ecstatic about what Harry was doing for her today and it showed in the constant smile that would not release itself from her face whenever she thought of Harry being such a good friend to do this for her  
  
There was a mountain of boxes standing in the fitting room when Sarah was finished stacking them. She then left to tally the total purchases and came back with a portable credit card scanner in hand.  
  
Hermione never got the opportunity to see what the final price for everything was but she was sure that it paled to the books.

With Harry not showing anything but indifference to the screen she wasn't able to figure out what Harry was thinking about how much money he was spending on her. But he had said that he would answer all of her questions at lunch, which hopefully wasn't too far off; and the cost of today's excursion would probably be halfway down the list of questions she had been compiling inside her head.  
  
Harry's credit card was swiped through the machine, and then asked to sign the screen instead of a paper print out this time.  
  
Sarah asked them what they would like to do with the boxes, "delivery, or pick-up?"  
  
Hermione hadn't thought that far ahead, but Harry was already acting before she could formulate an answer.  
  
Harry waved his hand and Sarah passed out. He caught her before she collapsed to the floor and sat her in an upright position on the couch before he heard Hermione gasp.  
  
"Harry, what did you do? Why did you do that?" Hermione exclaimed questioningly.  
  
"She's only sleeping; she will wake up in ten minutes thinking that we had a man come and collect your things. Please, don't be upset with me, she is really just napping. Nothing more than a _'somnus'_ spell," Harry confessed, a little worried at Hermione's reaction.  
  
"I'm not upset with you... I was just shocked. But you shouldn't have knocked her out, we could have thought of something," she replied with her hands on her hips now back to wearing the dress Harry had bought this morning for her and looking more like her usual bossy self.  
  
"You get to decide next-time, deal?" He asked smiling up at her.  
  
"Deal. Don't think you can just smile at me and get away with things at school. I'm still a prefect and I can hold rank over you," she mocked.

Harry and Hermione's comraderie was fast growing, and where a once bossy and rule abiding Hermione would have tried to force Harry to turn himself over to ministry authorities for performing magic on a muggle, now she wasn't even giving it a deserving second thought.

Harry again raised his hands in a surrendering pose, "I am at your mercy, please don't dock me house points over the summer, that's a record even I don't want."  
  
They both started to laugh at Harry's last remark, and Harry had almost dropped the trunk in mid-enlargement while stifling his laughter to gain some ounce of composure.  
  
He pressed his thumb to the key pad and then opened the enlarged trunks top and started to stack the boxes inside as the bottom and sides of the trunk started to magically alter themselves to allow room for Hermione's new things. Harry closed the lid once all of the boxes were secured inside, then motioned for Hermione to come over next to him. She knelt down in front of the trunk next to him not knowing he was about to key her in to his trunk.

Harry took her right hand in his left and gently pressed her thumb to the key pad and said, "This trunk is now the property of Hermione Granger."

Harry pulled her hand back slowly then pressed his own thumb to the pad to secure the transfer of property.  
  
"Consider this an earlier birthday present Hermione," Harry said a little sheepishly, "the password to shrink it is _'Lily'_, all you have to do is think it- mental password."  
  
They were both standing now and Hermione jumped towards Harry throwing her arms around his neck and holding herself off the ground until Harry wrapped his hands around her waist and held her up on his own.  
  
She was staring into his jade eyes and feeling a little lost before she shook off the feeling and said, "Thank-you Harry. You don't know how much everything you've done for me has meant, and its only our second day together. Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you."  
  
"You're welcome Hermione," he said relishing the feeling of holding her up and close to his body.

Harry thought about adding in something about coming to him if she ever needed anything, but thought better of it and decided not to state the obvious.  
  
"C'mon lets go to lunch, its almost time for our reservation," he said still looking into her now misty eyes.  
  
Hermione let her arms drop from around Harry's neck, and Harry's hands let go of her waist and they started for the door before Harry said, "Aren't you forgetting something?"  
  
Hermione looked confused, and then remembered it was her trunk now and he expected her to shrink it and carry it in her hand-bag, "Oh," she said bringing her hand to her mouth.  
  
She walked over to the trunk and pressed her finger to the indentation of her thumbprint now and said instead of just thought, "Lily."

When the trunk shrank down to size she picked it up, unclasped her hand bag and dropped it inside next to the two wands.  
  
"C'mon," Harry said, offering her his hand.  
  
Hermione walked towards Harry and slid her hand into the palm of his and laced her small skinny fingers between his larger, longer and calloused fingers. There was the warmth again, but this time for both of them.  
  
They took the elevator to the fourth floor and turned left when they got off. The brasserie was actually quite busy for being only a little after noon, mostly non-business types though; out enjoying a day of leisurely shopping, or the occasional tourist that had wandered over away from Harrods.  
  
The maitre d' Gabriel, instantly recognized Harry and rushed him to the front of the waiting line; where he then had a waiter direct them to a private table in the far corner of the room overlooking the city of Edinburgh, with a spectacular view of a garden below.  
  
The waiter seated them and offered them both a menu and a wine list before disappearing for the moment.  
  
"Harry, this is amazing. You really went all out today didn't you?" she asked in amazement.  
  
"For you," he replied without thinking.  
  
Hermione blushed again and busied herself looking over the wine list.  
  
"What would you like to drink from the list," she asked while still staring at the list.  
  
"I've never had wine before, the Dursley's wouldn't allow it, so you can choose, you can also choose the meal since you're the one choosing the wine," Harry said challengingly.  
  
Hermione was guessing that Harry had known she would know about wine, but also choosing the meal upped the ante. She wanted to show Harry a little more about herself and the things she had learned about cuisine and wine when she traveled with her parents.  
  
_'So that's what he's doing, he's getting me to use a happy memory about my parents and put it to use, he really does know what he's doing doesn't he?'_  
  
Harry could see her smile falter a bit so he had to do something quick to take her mind off what he knew would be her parents. He waived down the waiter and brought him over quickly and gestured to Hermione.  
  
Hermione looked up from her menu glad for the mental reprieve and told the water that they'd each take a glass of the Ridge-Geyserville Zinfandel, and that they'd split an order of seared king scallops, with roast cherry tomato and rocket salad, black pudding, balsamic and honey dressing.  
  
_'She knows what she's doing,'_ Harry said to himself watching Hermione expertly order the head chefs creation for this restaurant.  
  
"Thank-you," she said as she handed over the menus and the waiter disappeared without a word.  
  
"Thank-you too," she said looking out the glass and down on the garden below.  
  
"Hermione... it's ok to think about them in a happy way. It helps. I know it hurts too, but if you let it in the good... it dulls the ache."  
  
Still not looking away from the window she asked, "How is it you know exactly what I'm thinking? You haven't been in my mind have you?"  
  
"You know that I would never violate you. In any way. I've been there Hermione... I've seen that look in the mirror, I've worn it."

"I know. Now you're answering my questions aren't you?" she said redirecting her attention from the garden to looking Harry in the eyes.  
  
"Yes. I told you I would, a couple of times," Harry said staring back.  
  
The waiter chose that moment to break their gazes to deliver two glasses of red wine.  
  
"Thank-you," Harry said dismissingly.  
  
When they were alone again Harry tasted his wine and was surprised to find it more sweet and fruity than the bitter taste he thought there would be.  
  
Hermione let a smile come back to her when she saw Harry's surprised face and offered a warning, "Just because it's sweet doesn't mean you should drink it quickly Harry. Pace yourself, or you'll be singing the school song before our meal arrives."  
  
Harry, taking Hermione seriously, cautiously put the glass back down and eyed it warily.  
  
Hermione giggled again seeing that she now had Harry worried about the effects of quickly drinking a single glass of wine. His naivety was endearing to say the least about him she thought.  
  
Harry leaned slightly back in the half-back beige plush chair and started the conversation she had wanted to have for the past day and half, "What would you like to know?"  
  
She paused for a moment to try and order her questions in a manner than would lead one into the other and provide background for future questions she might have.  
  
"First, tell me why you hate Professor Dumbledore," she asked with a determined looking face.  
  
"Albus has made mistakes with the way he's treated people and with the way he has approached dealing with Tom Riddle for the second time. I would not go so far as to say that I hate him. Hate is too strong of a word for a man I used to think of as a grandfather. It would be a more accurate description by labeling the feeling I have for him as contempt with a dash of loathing thrown into the mix," he said at length.  
  
Hermione was taken aback by the casual manner in which Harry spoke of his lack of respect for the greatest wizard alive on the face of the planet, as well as his headmaster at school. But what Professor Dumbledore had done to Hermione was enough for her to accept Harry's feelings without lashing out at him, and she still did not know that she had been used as bait for Harry.  
  
"Ok. Are you going to reconcile with him at school this year?"  
  
"Preferably before school begins. Hermione, I may be nearly sixteen, but I am no longer blind to the fact that I need help, I am not some lost, arrogant and petulant child out on the lamb living life for me. No, I'm still living life for other people, and the training I've been putting myself through this summer can only go so far before I need to make the next step. And there is only one way to make that next step."  
  
"Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"That's the one," Harry jested.  
  
"Why did you disappear at the beginning of summer?"  
  
"I went to Gringotts to visit my vault, and when I was there I learned that Albus had been keeping another secret from me. He had been hiding the fact that there was Potter Family vault, and when I questioned the goblin who had taken me to the vault, I was able to convince him to inform me of the surveillance measures and who the reports went to. I guess you could say with last years secrecy about order members following me without my knowledge, the multitude of events at school and then Albus finally telling me why Tom is after me; the news of even more secrets was the final grain of sand on my balance. I was tired Hermione, of all the clandestine business that surrounded my life, lies and half-truths and plots within plots. Tired that no one was giving me a straight answer except for my friends, who didn't know any more than I did. So in my family vault I found a letter, on one side it was a letter written by my father before he died and placed there for me or for another Potter to find, and on the other side a message written by Sirius informing me that certain documents had been filed on my behalf should I wish to sign them. Those documents happened to be my emancipation papers. Technically in the wizarding world I am a legal adult and responsible for myself. Along with my emancipation I came into the complete inheritance that Sirius had left me. The remaining gold from the Black Family vault, and all their property holdings. If I wanted to I could divulge the secret of where Grimmauld Place is to a real estate attorney and sell the house out from under the order and send them a message in doing so, but would that be productive... no. Selling that house out from under Albus would certainly make me feel slightly better, but it would accomplish nothing. It would be better to set up the house as a permanent base of operations and pay the order members myself so there would no longer be any _'double life'_ business. . I learned, and this is only part that I'm going to tell you about what my father wrote in his letter to me, that there existed a place where I could go and train without anyone knowing where I was. In a way reading that letter was like reading where Grimmauld Place was for the first time, and the portkey that Sirius had made for me and left in an inheritance/safety deposit box delivered me there."  
  
"So you left to train and get away from secrets, but are now your own secret keeper and keeping secrets from Professor Dumbledore and the rest of us?" Hermione accused.  
  
"Yes," Harry replied.  
  
"Besides Remus myself and Tory, who else is in the house and helping you train?"  
  
"No one else, except for a few wizard portraits."  
  
"But who was training you before Remus arrived? No offense Harry, there is no way you could be doing the things you are doing now by simply reading text and practicing," Hermione said.  
  
"There are two portraits in particular that are helping me, one is of Silus Potter who has been training me in Occlumency and Legilimency. I know there has been no one to practice on in the manor, but he has been training me to safeguard my mind and expand it as well. Silus Potter when he was alive was responsible for training Albus Dumbledore who in turn taught Tom Riddle. Therefore it only makes sense that I am receiving my training from the source of my problem. The other portrait is of my father, James Potter; who is also hosting Sirius' wizard portrait since Sirius prepared for _'everything'_. It has been quite an _'experience'_ to surmise everything from the past month, and this coming month will only become more intense with Remus there to help," Harry answered.  
  
Harry and Hermione looked up when they saw the waiter carrying the large plate in front of him and set it down between them and walk away, noting their glasses did not need to be refilled.  
  
Harry took another drink of his wine, making sure that he was pacing himself; before setting the glass down and spearing a scallop and tomato with his fork.  
  
Hermione was doing the same thing only with a little more finesse. They were both famished from the shopping they did earlier, or the shopping Hermione did and the spending that Harry did.  
  
They paused only long enough for each of them to swallow a scallop and take a drink of their wine. Harry noting that he would have to find a way to take Hermione out of Hogwarts during the year; and visit the various restaurants of England... so he could learn more from her culinary tastes.  
  
Hermione started up again when she lowered her half empty glass to the table, "Ok so you've been learning from memories and books? That's it? You've done all this from that? There has to be more to it, there has to be!"  
  
"Calm down, there is well at least a small amount more. The room that houses the portrait for both my father and Sirius is an exact replica of the **'Room of Requirement'** at Hogwarts. I can ask for anything I need to help me with my studies and my training. Even corporeal projections of my father and Sirius that are able to interact with me and challenge me," Harry proudly stated.  
  
"Merlin... in your own home, your manor!?"  
  
"Time is the only thing that really lets that sink in, I know, it took me a week to fully adjust to the idea."  
  
Harry was holding his wine glass in one hand and a fork holding a scallop in the other and enjoying Hermione's company and the fine food and wine. This was definitely a memory that would be able to conjure a Patronus.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me that you were going away to train? You keep saying that I'm your best friend and that you love me, but you didn't even bother to send an owl," a hurt Hermione got out.  
  
"Hermione, I left the day after I returned home from Hogwarts, and I was going to send you an owl to explain this to you, but you would have stopped me if told you what I was going through. I'm afraid that you're going to step through the door at the manor and see what I'm subjected myself do and force me to quit, because you have that ability Hermione. I'll never make the mistake of not listening to you again. I did it once and it cost lives. Everyone that went to the ministry was marked, they're paying for knowing me and helping me..." Harry was staring at her making her see this, "... my father never once told my mother what he did when he left to train himself, not ever over the course of their marriage, its something of a Potter male heir secret, and that is the only thing I'll keep from you, you can ask anything you want and I'll answer you, save that, and that's all I ask from you."  
  
"I can accept that. Now tell me, did you tell Ron?"  
  
"What!? And subject myself to Molly Weasleys wrath! No thank-you," Harry took a gulp of his wine at the mention of encountering an irate Molly Weasley or Ginny Weasley for that matter.  
  
Hermione had to laugh at the mock fear that Harry was putting on for her sake at the thought of being frightened by Ron's mother  
  
"Yeah, you're right, a month with her and you'd probably be in even better shape than you are now," she said off handedly.  
  
"You think I'm in shape?" Harry smiled.  
  
Hermione took a gulp of wine herself before continuing, "From what I've seen, and I've seen everything you happen to be in incredible shape, you're sure to be a target for Teen Witch Weekly this coming term and all the women of Hogwarts."  
  
Harry mumbled something about only wanting one which caused Hermione to turn pink again and drink her wine.  
  
They ate in companionable silence. Content to just look at eachother and the cityscape beyond the window, smiling until there were only a few scallops remaining and only a few drops of wine left in their glasses. Then the questions started again.  
  
"Harry, you said that Professor Dumbledore told you why Tom Riddle is trying to kill you, what did he tell you?"  
  
Harry mustered his Gryffindor courage and point blank said, "The prophecy that was destroyed at the Department of Mysteries was made about me and Tom Riddle, and what it comes down to is that either I have to kill him, or be killed by him, for neither can truly live while the other survives. I'll write down the complete prophecy for you when we get back. Dumbledore was in the middle of Trewlayney's interview for her position as Divination teacher at Hogwarts when she made her first real prophecy, suprise suprise yours truly was the subject. Her second real prophecy having been made in our third year and I find it more than a little odd that her only prophecies have to deal with me and _'dark times'_."  
  
Hermione stared in disbelief at the nonchalant way that Harry spoke of a prophecy that foresaw him either killing Voldemort or being killed by him.  
  
"I can see why you would be a little upset with Professor Dumbledore after holding something like that back for 5 years," Hermione said slowly.  
  
"I was more than a little upset when he told me. The prophecy, his neglecting of me the entire year and dealing Umbridge all seemed to culminate with my rearranging his office in a less that constructive manner."  
  
"Oh," Hermione said and finished the last of her wine.  
  
The waiter returned seeing that both their glasses were empty and asked if they wanted a refill or if he could get them desert.  
  
Both Harry and Hermione looked at each other realizing that the other was finished and ready to return to the manor, so Harry asked for the check.  
  
Harry then pulled out the money case and asked for one hundred pounds, then slid the lid back and retrieved two fifty pound notes, before returning the case to his pocket.  
  
"Harry what is that, I've seen you use it twice today?"  
  
"This case is a direct link to my account at Gringotts, all I have to do is place my hand on it and speak the amount and medium of currency and it provides me with what I asked for, it's proved to be very convenient, wouldn't you say?"  
  
"That thing has certainly saved a lot of trips to Gringotts and back today, that's true," she replied.  
  
Harry not really willing to wait for the for the server to return dropped both notes on the table, not knowing how much the meal cost, and then held out another of his many plastic portkey's.  
  
"Harry we can't," she said in a whisper. "People will see."  
  
"No they wont. This one sends out a mild memory charm so they wont have seen us leave, and the server will just think we were impatient," he said in a normal tone.  
  
"Stop doing that," she said fully smiling now.  
  
"Doing what?" he asked confused.  
  
"Thinking of everything, its supposed to be my job in the trio," she asserted.  
  
"Oh, is that how it is?" he mocked.  
  
Hermione grasped the portkey that he help over the table and clutched her hand bag in her lap with her free hand, and said, "That's how it's supposed to be anyway," then she blushed and Harry said, "Safety."  
  
As Harry and Hermione were disappearing a soft blue bubble radiated away from their table altering the memory of anyone who was watching at the time of their disappearance.

* * *

They returned back to Harry's bedroom where he removed his jacket and fell back onto his bed and yawned loudly.  
  
"Tired?" Hermione asked looking over him.  
  
"I run near eight kilometers in the morning, then lift weights, see to my personal studies for advancement with my magic, spend on average four hours with my father that usually leaves me dead tired, then on average another 3 with occlumency and legilimency training, and I'm able to stay awake till at least ten before I pass out. I spend half a day with you, and I'm beat. What're you doing to me?" He asked through closed eyes and a dopy looking grin.  
  
Hermione kicked off her sandal heels and laid down next to Harry and clung to him tighter than she usually did at night before saying, "Making you human."  
  
Harry replied with, "Thanks, I think I need a nap," and then passed out.  
  
Hermione looked up to see that Harry had indeed passed out, and she wondered when and where he had acquired such an ability before settling back down next to him and holding onto him before she too fell asleep.  
  
The last thought that ran through Hermione's mind before she fell asleep embracing Harry was that today had been the most confusing day next to when she had learned that she was a witch. It had also been the day she had ever had in her short life. 


	10. Forceful Awakening

**Forceful Awakening:**  
  
"SON OF A BITCH! I'M GOING TO WRING HIS BLOODY NECK WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON HIM!!!" Ron Weasley was screaming from his room at number 12 Grimmauld Place.  
  
In the grasp of his hands he held a two and a half week old copy of the Daily Prophet. A copy of the paper that his parents, brothers, sister and more than likely the bulk of the order members that knew about the article were hiding from him. He had come across it by accident when his mother had told him to empty the bin in the kitchen and throw the bag down the trash shoot in mudroom. When he was pulling the bag from the bin, the bottom fell out, emptying the contents all over the kitchen floor. After cleaning it up all by hand before his mother found him, a wet and wrinkled front page of the Daily Prophet with Harry Potter winking in the direction of the camera caught his eye.  
  
Ron at first had been pleased to see that his best mate was looking well and obviously happy being out in the world and had not paid attention to the woman that he was with; not that it made a difference since the person responsible for taking the photograph had not been able to capture her face. But back in his room after he took the garbage out and was looking closer at the photo he recognized the woman instantly, only it was no woman. It was Hermione. He would recognize that hair and figure anywhere given a moment. It didn't matter that he was looking at her from the back, he was used to it from Hogwarts when he was trying to look at her without getting caught staring.  
  
Ron looked to that date at the top that had the ink half smudged out, June twenty something. That was more than two weeks ago. Why hadn't anybody bothered to tell him his best friends were out in what he read was a fancy restaurant in muggle London? Why the HELL hadn't they come and gotten him to come along as well?  
  
"WHAT THE FUCK DOES HARRY THINK HE'S PLAYING AT? HE'S BLOODY WINKING AT THE PERSON TAKING THE PICTURE! HE KNEW HE WAS BEING WATCHED, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON AROUND HERE!?"  
  
He was temporarily consoled by his own vengeful thoughts that Harry was in some way going behind his back to take Hermione from him, when Harry knew full well that Ron fancied Hermione; and the thoughts that once he was done with Harry- Professor Dumbledore would no doubt choose to take action as well. This was flagrant disrespect for member orders that were trying to protect Harry and Hermione.  
  
_'Bloody Hell right, knocks out two guards...'_ a foreign thought popped into his head.  
  
"What was that?" Ron asked himself and the empty room.  
  
_'What did you hear?'_ Wait, that's Tonks voice! These are memories. From where, he asked himself trying to focus on remembering but nothing more was coming. So Ron resigned himself to trying to figure out what was going on with his supposed _'best friends'_.  
  
Then there was another foreign memory when he started to think about Harry disappearing and where he was, but this time it was his own voice he was hearing.  
  
_'Enough to start piecing things together...'_ he heard himself replying to what must have been Tonks.  
  
All of sudden, when he heard his own reply, the memory of standing outside of Tonks bedroom and listening in on the conversation she was having with the communication mirror came flooding back to him.  
  
His own thoughts of Harry's sudden disappearance at the beginning of the holidays and what he had learned from Tonks saying he had knocked out three guards to get to Hermione. Ron was remembering it all, and his current loathing for Harry was greatly decreased. An amplified amount of his hate was now directed at Tonks for 'obliviating' him however.  
  
The revelations of Harry out on the town with Hermione, and both of them looking decidedly posh without him, and Tonks altering his memory was almost too much for him to handle being locked away in Harry's home/Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.  
  
_'First I deal with Tonks!'_ He told himself coolly while glaring at his own image in the mirror atop his bureau.  
  
He stormed from his bedroom and passed a stoic looking Ginny, who had been standing outside his bedroom listening to him let the jealous nature he had inside himself when it considered Harry and Hermione out. Ron reveled in the feeling of justification that he was about to receive from Tonks if he could find her. If she was in the middle of a meeting, THEN THE MEETING BE DAMNED!  
  
Ron had never gotten over the attempted _'obliviation' _that one of his former professors', Gilderoy Lockhart had tried to administer to both himself and Harry when they went to rescue his younger sister.  
  
He had never admitted to anyone that he was truly afraid of losing every memory he had. Both the good at bad; and after seeing Lockhart during his fifth year while visiting his father in St. Mungo's, he knew that his fear was greatly justified. The former professor, and constant winner of Witch Weekly's best smile award, had no idea of who he was or why people sent him letters. The man spent his day re-learning how to write. The thought of himself and Harry sharing a room at St. Mungo's re-learning everything they had taken or at least Ron had taken for granted, he didn't know about Harry although he thought he knew all about Harry up until he found that damned paper.  
  
_'No wonder they were trying to hide the paper from me,'_ Ron fumed.  
  
He was standing in front of the double doors that opened to Tonks' bedroom and banged his closed fist as loud as he could to draw her from whatever she was preoccupied with.  
  
The portrait of Sirius' mother woke at the sound of Ron's banging and started her constant ranting about _'filthy blood traitors'_ and _'get out of the noble house of Black, the Dark Lord will kill you all!'_.  
  
Everyone by the first month into summer had become more than accustomed to someone setting off Mrs. Blacks' portrait. It was now an unspoken agreement between the order members that whoever was closest to the portrait when it went off was responsible for redrawing the curtains she had thrown back and reseal her behind them.  
  
Tonks, who had been sitting at the desk in front of her preparing a report on the current death eater that she had been assigned to tail- now that she was no longer required to follow Harry and provide extra security; was startled by the loud banging on her bedroom door. She quickly made her way over to see what all the fuss was about.  
  
Ron seeing that door was slowly opening pushed the door back with force, which sent Tonks in her ever clumsy nature sprawling onto the hardwood floor and landing on her arse; but with her Auror and order training it didn't even look like she had been knocked down before she was again standing and spinning Ron around and pressing him up against the wall next to bedroom door in a one armed arm bar.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing? Barging in here?" Tonks hissed into his right ear.  
  
Ron, not possessing any training in personal defense, but still having more strength that Tonks had used this to his advantage and swung his head backwards, head-butting Tonks square in the forehead and forcing her to see stars and let go of Ron.  
  
Ron then spun around pushed her back onto the side of her bed.  
  
Ron slammed the door shut while Tonks brought her left palm to her forehead where Ron had hit her. He felt ashamed that he had hit a woman, but at the moment he wasn't one for feeling regrets.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING HIDING INFORMATION ABOUT MY BEST FRIENDS FROM ME? AND THEN WHEN I DO FIND OUT ABOUT IT YOU FUCKING 'OBLIVIATE' FOR MY TROUBLES AND YOUR STUPIDITY FOR NOT CLOSING YOUR OWN BLOODY DOOR!?" Ron bellowed while she was trying to sit up straight, with her palm still to her forehead.  
  
Not even really paying attention to Ron's ranting, Tonks replied, "Merlin Ron, I hope your head hurts as much as mine, god!"  
  
"I HOPE IT HURTS! AND I HOPE YOU FEEL PATHETIC FOR NOT DOING A GOOD ENOUGH JOB OF HIDING THINGS FROM ME! DO YOU REALLY BELONG HERE? ALWAYS TRIPPING OVER THINGS, WAKING UP THAT DAMNED PORTRAIT!" Ron shouted at her.  
  
The remarks about her head hurting and her pride being tarnished for not taking care of Ron as fully as she should have were enough to bring her blood to a boil. With the speed she had shown when she was knocked down from the door, Tonks was standing looking up to stare Ron down... and then her fist embedded itself squarely into his solar plexus.  
  
Ron fell to his knees with his arms wrapped around his gut gasping for the air that had soundly been knocked from him. Then looked up through now tearing eyes and watched as another fist came sailing at him and landing squarely on the left side of his jaw. Blood spurted from the opposite corner where he had not been hit before he fell onto his side. Clutching his aching stomach and tasting the iron in his own blood that was now leaking from the pool inside his cheek, an added couple of tears were streaking perpendicularly across his nose and cheeks landing on the hardwood floor to mix his blood and spit.  
  
"YOU PIECE OF SHITE, WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE... GET IT THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL THAT YOU'RE JUST A KID, AND THERE ARE THINGS OUT THERE THAT YOU NEITHER NEED TO KNOW NOR WOULD BE ABLE TO DEAL WITH IF YOU WERE TOLD!" Tonks yelled at Ron, who was now in a fetus like position.  
  
Ron tried to mumble something in reply but found that his jaw wasn't going to comply with his minds order.  
  
"I didn't lose Harry, but I was played, he knew what he was doing and it was planned that way. He even went after Hermione when I'm sure that Dumbledore was using her for bait to draw him out, and what he did he shouldn't have been able to do, but HE DID IT WITHOUT BREAKING A SWEAT. HE TOOK DOWN THREE HIGHLY TRAINED ORDER MEMBERS WITHOUT EVEN TRYING AND THEN RESCUED THE GIRL! How Cranciun-esque. And look at you, you come in here attacking me first, and then demanding to know why I did what I did. For your trouble you're lying there sobbing and bleeding. I tell you know kid, GROW UP! AND GROW UP FAST; OTHERWISE YOU'RE GOING TO GET LEFT BEHIND!" Tonks said coolly, showing the true air and power of a fully trained Auror; something she had yet to show anyone outside her vocation.  
  
_'Lose Harry? Played? What's she talking about?'_  
  
Tonks knelt down beside to Ron and pulled a handkerchief from her blue robes right pocket, and started to lightly dab away the tears that were pooling in the corner of Ron's eyes and the streaks they left on their way to the floor.  
  
"Look Ron, there are things that Harry hasn't told you yet that would explain all of this I'm sure. Even I don't know, but I'm guessing that there are and if he's really your best mate then he'll tell you when the times right. Hermione's father was murdered and her mother would have been better off if she had been..."  
  
Ron shuddered when she point blank stated that Hermione's mother would have been better off dead.  
  
"...Dumbledore took Hermione from her mother's bedside and put her somewhere where she would be safe, or so he thought anyway. But Harry's been through this before... we all know that this is almost exactly act for act what had happened to Harry when he was only an infant..."  
  
Tonks was now wiping the spit and blood from the right corner of Ron's mouth.  
  
"... Harry did the right thing, he found out where she was, no doubt by Remus telling him, and went and got her. Dumbledore was using her as bait, and did expect Harry to be able to do what he did. So Harry took her, and by the looks of the paper from a few weeks ago, he had done more for her than Dumbledore had done in two weeks of condemning her to 24 hour guards and no medical attention, 'psychiatric' attention that she would need. Harry knew what was going on in her head and he knows how to deal with it better than anyone I've met. Auror or otherwise. He's dealt with it more than once... you can testify to that..."  
  
Ron made a grunt that sounded in the affirmative to what Tonks had said about knowing what Harry had been through.  
  
"...You and Hermione and you're family and anyone that has ever helped Harry are targets in this war, and it's because you're friends with Harry or someone has helped him in some way, no matter how abstract the help would be. He trusts you here, I'm sure that he considers you able to handle yourself and that's why he hasn't come to collect you as well. Well, that, and I'm not sure that Harry is confident enough yet to stroll into Grimmauld Place and deal with every member on hand on any given day..." she said with a slight chuckle towards the end.  
  
Ron was trying to give a slight laugh himself, but the pain in his jaw and his gut was preventing him from making anything more than grunts.  
  
Tonks seeing that Ron's jaw was starting to swell, finally removed her wand from the leather holster attached to her left forearm, pointed it at his jaw and said, _"Integro Maxilla."_  
  
The swelling that was starting to become apparent in Ron's jaw was slowly receding and in less than a minute the swelling was gone. What Ron had thought was his broken jaw, had healed itself and returned to normal. He opened his mouth without any problems, but there was an audible pop whenever he opened it a little too wide. He figured that he would be cursed with a slight case of T.M.J. until he either saw a real healer or Madam Pomfrey back at school.  
  
"Thanks," he said rubbing the side of his face that still had the residual feeling of being hit hard enough to break the bone, and finally sitting up cross legged. He had finally regained his breath and had his hands on his thighs.  
  
Ron was desperately trying not to meet Tonks eyes now. He knew that he had been made submissive, like some pet that had done wrong and had their nose rubbed in it.  
  
"I'm sorry, it's just that..." Ron started.  
  
Tonks held up a hand to stop him, "You don't even have to say it, I know what you're going to say, and I'm going to say this once before you leave. Get over being jealous of Harry."  
  
Ron was about to refute what she had just said to him but he was cut off again.  
  
"You will never be him. You will never beat him, so don't try. Be his best mate and accept his help and help him when he needs it."  
  
Ron's face was completely scarlet and screwed up in shame and hate over the accurate presumption that he wanted desperately to be exactly like his best mate. But Tonks carried on like he didn't even change his expression from remorse at attacking her to staring daggers in her direction.  
  
"You can't even see it, can you?" she asked staring straight at him and ignoring the glare.  
  
"See what," he replied harshly.  
  
"That he had never wanted this, and that he wants to be you, as desperately as you want to be him. That's what," she stated as if this was the most obvious thing in the world to him.  
  
"Tonks, you know that isn't true. Why the hell would Harry want to be me? What do I have that he couldn't buy for himself whenever he felt like it?" he spat.  
  
"Shut-up and listen to me you prat," she said glaring at him for missing the obvious, "Harry's parents were killed when he was one, he was sent to live with relatives that rejected him and forced him to live in a five by five cupboard until he was eleven, then he finds out in the blink of an eye that he's was the saviour of the wizarding world before he could even speak, gets thrown in front of the spotlight that goes from admonishing him with love and adoration- to hatred and loathing for being an attention seeking press whore. Numerous attempts are made on his life without him ever knowing why, two years ago he's whisked away where he witnesses the murder of a classmate and is used to resurrect the 'thing' that was responsible for all of this is the first place. He thinks he's going mad last year, drags his 'friends' even though he tried to force them to stay behind, with him to try and save his godfather and nearly gets you all killed for the lie that was planted in his head. Then he's possessed by Riddle and wishes that Dumbledore would just kill him while Riddle was inside of him hoping that all the pain he's had to deal with will go away finally- yeah Dumbledore told us so we would watch out for a suicidal Harry; and then to top it all off Dumbledore takes him back to his office and tells him something that causes him to decide to disappear from all of us. None of us know what Dumbledore told him, but we're guessing it had something to do with him and Riddle..."  
  
Ron was looking at Tonks in complete confusion. He had been jealous of Harry for the better part of having known him as long as he had, save for that time when he had to rescue him from the barred bedroom room during the summer before their second year. But he had never heard someone speak of Harry like this before, and what made him feel all but a centimeter tall was his own guilt at never having taken any of this into consideration; and Tonks wasn't even finished explaining this too him when he wanted nothing more than to find his friend and apologize with every fiber in his body.  
  
"... Harry has never wanted any of this, can't you see past your own glory seeking ambition to notice that, Slytherin! To notice that Harry would more than willingly in the blink of an eye hand over every galleon, sickle, knut, broom, house, pain, and story just to live the normal happy life that you take for granted?" Tonks asked trying to break through the now guilty looking Ron.  
  
"I... I never. I've never thought..." Ron started.  
  
"No you didn't, and that's the problem." Tonks coolly replied.  
  
"Some best mate I am huh?" Ron said trying to alleviate the guilt he was feeling and trying to chuckle.  
  
"I'd say," Tonks said regaining some of her usual happy demeanor.  
  
"So how do I fix this?" he asked.  
  
"Do I have to do everything for you?" Tonks said glaring at him again. "Be a man, or at least try to act like one and figure it out on your own. And so help me if you ever barge into my room again I wont stop at knocking you down, I'll beat the living shite out of you and leave you on the stoop in front of your parents bedroom, hexed with the word 'STUPID' written across your forehead, understand?" she coolly asked.  
  
Ron sighed and stood up.  
  
Ron turned to leave and stopped at the door, turned around and started, "Tonks?"  
  
Tonks was watching him leave and was not in the mood for his apology right now. She had taken it to heart that she had attacked a kid with force, and that was an attack on her personal pride that she was berating herself for.  
  
"Don't. Now get out, I have work to finish."  
  
Ron didn't say another word. His head dropped to his chest and he turned to exit her room, slowly and quietly closing the door behind him. When he turned around he was face to face with his younger sister Ginny, who had obviously been eavesdropping again.  
  
He looked down into her teary eyes and asked knowing the answer before she would even reply, "What did you hear?"  
  
Trying her best not to break down into a crying bit she lunged at her brother and hugged him tightly saying, "everything, every single word, and she's right you know."  
  
Ron's arms wrapped around his much shorter sister and pulled her tightly to him. Grateful for the care that his sister was showing him.  
  
"I know now," he said to the back of her hair.  
  
"C'mon, we need to talk ourselves," she said stepping back from him and nodding her head in the direction of her bedroom down the hall.  
  
Ron emotionally and physically spent from the beating and verbal attack that made him realize they way things really were, merely nodded and followed his younger sister like a beaten man. Like the beaten man he was the moment.  
  
Both Ron and Ginny, the youngest members of the Weasley family, entered Ginny's bedroom at Grimmauld Place that was larger than most of the other rooms. The size was due to the fact that there was an additional four poster bed opposite hers that was usually occupied by who Ginny Weasley considered to be her best friend, Hermione Granger.  
  
Ron and Ginny looked over at the empty bed and sighed in unison at the sight of a made and never slept in queen sized four poster. Ginny led him to the window directly in the middle of the room that was magically altered to give a view of the Scottish landscape that Hogwarts 4th year girl's dormitory offered.  
  
Ginny glared at Ron who was standing across from her, and Ron seeing this sighed again and crossed his arms across his chest.  
  
The talk he had expected to start of slowly and gradually build into a heated argument before one of them conceded to the other, did not happen as he supposed. Ginny was left handed and Ron hadn't even expected it, let alone seen it- like he was unfortunate enough to see Tonks fist coming at him seconds before it hit him.  
  
The resounding slap echoed through the empty and silent room, bouncing off the floors and the walls bringing an incredible sad sense around the occupants.  
  
Ron had taken a step back from himself and laughed inwardly at the thought that his jealously had finally caught up with him and in one day he was paying for it by being emasculated by both a female Auror- that he admitted to himself could kick his arse any time of the day, and then his younger sister- that at the moment looked like a younger irate version of his mother, on one of her tyrannical raids that was usually reserved for Fred and George whenever they pulled one of their illustrious pranks.  
  
He had no other option but to laugh inside his own head at how stupid he had been. How blind he had been to his best mate and all of the trials he had been through and shared with him, even when Harry took the bulk of the proverbial impact that would hit him, Hermione and himself. There was nothing else he could do except for break down and start weeping, and he didn't want to that at all, let alone in front of his sister. But he didn't want to laugh in his sister's face for fear of another attack, and Ginny being his sister and a young woman he would not be able to bring himself to fight back. He was already starting to feel even guiltier about having head- butted Tonks, but her counter-attack was soothing to his broken pride.  
  
Ginny had rounded on her self, and with tears falling from her eyes and a hand over her mouth to prevent a gasp or apology escaping, she took a step back from Ron.  
  
The force of Ginny's slap had only caused Ron's face to move slightly in the direction the blow directed, but the only sign that she had hit him aside from his watering eyes was the pink palm print still on his right cheek.  
  
"Ok, I deserved that," Ron said dejectedly.  
  
"You really haven't heard him from all summer?" Ginny whispered.  
  
Ron sighed and his shoulders fell a little, "no, I got my hopes up when my O.W.L.'s were delivered, but... no, nothing."  
  
"Mum and I thought you might have been writing to him in secret," Ginny stated.  
  
Ron just stared at her without an expression on his face not knowing what to feel about what she had just said.  
  
Ginny hesitated before saying, "I... I tried sending him an owl about a week ago, to see how he was doing, I know he's blaming himself for what happened at the ministry, and I just wanted to say that it wasn't his fault; but Pig came back the next day with my letter."  
  
Ron nodded his head.  
  
"If Dumbledore was using Hermione as bait for Harry, then that means that even the professor doesn't know where Harry is," she stated.  
  
"I hadn't even thought about that," Ron admitted. Then smiled thinking that it was truly an accomplishment for Harry if he was able to really get away from everyone, even Professor Dumbledore.  
  
_'But why get away from Dumbledore?'_ he asked himself.  
  
Ginny was looking out the window with her arms across her chest like Ron and asked to no one in particular, "How did he 'take out' as Tonks said three of Hermione's guards without effort?"  
  
"I don't know Gin, and I'm sure that I want to know how to do that myself though. If Harry can do that, then it only brings up the question of what he's been doing to himself this summer. Questions like how powerful he really is. I mean I know Tonks has more information about Professor Dumbledore dueling Riddle at the ministry than we do, but when she said that thing about Riddle being inside Harry and him wishing Dumbledore would kill him to stop it all... how did he trap Riddle in his head and then get him out? If Dumbledore didn't kill him to get him out. And how did Tonks know that Harry wanted Dumbledore to kill him?" Ron spouted off.  
  
"You heard Tonks, Ron; I thought you were paying attention. Harry probably told Dumbledore everything he was thinking when Riddle was inside him. It's what I did... well, what I could remember anyway," Ginny said not looking at her brother.  
  
Ron knew that the memory of being possessed by the diary in Ginny's first year was still a painful one to remember. She was right about reporting what she could remember, and Ron in his first actual acting like a big brother moment stepped up behind Ginny and placed a hand on her shoulder in a calming fashion to show that he cared.  
  
Knowing that Ron was never one for showing his true feelings, Ginny was silently elated that he was showing even this small gesture towards her. She was thinking that he was really starting to grow up...  
  
_'And about time too!'_ she almost laughed.  
  
Ron was the one who was hesitating before speaking now and breaking the temporary silence, "Do you think... Do you think that he really wants to be me, like she said?"  
  
"I don't have a doubt in my mind," Ginny replied flatly.  
  
Ron was starting to feel even guiltier that everyone around him had seen this and his own jealousy had blinded him. The only time when Harry had been cross with him was during their temporary estrangement in fourth year when Ron's jealousy got out of hand and then last year when Harry was acting like he was touched in the head half the time- even if it turns out that a dark wizard really was in his mind.  
  
"Do you think he's taking good care of Hermione?" He asked quietly staring straight over Ginny's head and out the window.  
  
"Ron, no one was there for Harry when this happened to him. Those relatives that he was with didn't give a damn about him and he had to deal with all on his own, he's been dealing with it over and over again with different people involved as he gets older without any help either. I am more than certain that Hermione is being better taken care of and better protected than any of us here at headquarters," Ginny replied at length.  
  
"Do you... do you think that he's taking too good of care of her?" Ron asked sadly now staring at the hardwood floor he was standing on.  
  
"Hermione is one of his best friends, and you know Harry better than I do. If I had to guess... he knows about your feelings for her and would never do anything to hurt you. He's also probably afraid that even if he did have feelings for Hermione he'd be too afraid of screwing up their friendship and losing what they have now. So no, I don't think he's taking too good of care of Hermione," she answered.  
  
_'Merlin I hope I'm right,'_ Ginny told herself still holding out that there might be a chance for her and Harry. She may have told everyone that she was over her crush, but it was actually growing anew ever since she concocted that story about dating Dean Thomas.  
  
"Besides, Hermione only ever goes for older men," Ginny said off handedly.  
  
"Yeah, but you saw the picture didn't you?" Ron asked.  
  
"No, why? Mum just told me about the article in the paper and about how Harry looked like he knew that he was having his photograph taken... then she mumbled about something about Harry taking another shot at the order. I didn't know what she meant by that, but now with what Tonks told you I'm starting to get the real story about what's happening and how he's really involved," Ginny said a little worriedly.  
  
Ron unfolded the front page of the dingy Daily Prophet from his back pocket and handed it over to her.  
  
One of Ginny's hands went back to her mouth to silence her gasp when she saw a much older looking and very gorgeous looking Harry winking at the person taking the picture.  
  
_'Merlin he looks good, and look at what he's wearing, and look at what that girl he's with is wearing!'_  
  
Ginny's hand that was covering her mouth went back to holding the other side of the article and then asked Ron, "Who's the woman he's with in the picture?"  
  
Without thinking about the way he was saying it Ron replied coldly, "Hermione."  
  
"Oh. Now I see why you're concerned," Ginny said while trying to read the article.  
  
After having consoled him that Harry wasn't taking too good of care of Hermione Ron nearly shouted, "What!?"  
  
"Relax. This was a couple days after he went to get her, he was probably trying to treat her or something," Ginny said as if it was obvious what Harry was doing.  
  
"Oh, ok then," Ron said calming down.  
  
Ginny knew now why her mum had been saying something about Harry taking a shot at the order. Harry was blatantly winking at the photographers' camera, like he had set it all up with it to have the undertone of saying, 'You're all blind aren't you? I'm enjoying myself and Dumbledore's got you out trying to track me down and you aren't any the wiser.'  
  
"Ron?" Ginny asked when she was finished with the article and handing it back to him.  
  
"Yeah, Gin?" he said folding the article and putting it in his back pocket.  
  
"We're going to be dealing with a very different Harry this year aren't we?" she asked worriedly.  
  
"I don't know Gin, but I know I'm going to be different this year, that's for certain," Ron stated.  
  
Ginny smiled a little at her brothers' obvious attempt to console her worries, but it only helped a small amount. She was worried about how Harry was changing; she was actually more excited than worried. If Harry was going to be anything like what he looked like in the photograph then this year was going to be one hell of a Harry hunt for all the girls at Hogwarts; older and younger witches would be after him constantly and she would have to make sure that she had something that none of the other girls could compete with. What that would be she didn't know yet, but she was going to have to work fast. September first was only a couple of weeks away and that's when the 'hunt' would start, just as soon as girls started to get their eyes on him. Some would have undoubtedly seen him in the paper and were already preparing their own strategies. Parvati, Lavender, and a slew of other girls had experience she couldn't get from a book and they would prove to be excellent targets for the pranks and knowledge that Fred and George had bestowed upon her, but at least Ginny now had a focus for the rest of the summer besides her studies. Which admittedly without Hermione there to coax her on and set an example, she was slacking off.  
  
"Gin?" Ron asked tentatively seeing that she was deep in thought about something.  
  
"Oh, uhm...yeah?" she said coming out of her own thoughts.  
  
"Thanks, I needed this, all of this," Ron said making mention of both the talks he had received and the then gesturing to the fading pink palm print on his face.  
  
Ginny smiled at her older brother feeling only love for the prat and then watched him turned to leave.  
  
Ron was at the door when Ginny came jogging after him, "Hey wait... you said that your O.W.L. results had come, you didn't say anything to mum or dad or me. How'd you do?" she asked expectantly.  
  
"Not bad, not great, but not bad," he replied and tried to open the door. But Ginny was too quick for him and was now standing in front of the door blocking his exit.  
  
"Not good enough. Explain," she told him  
  
"You want a number or a complete recitation of what the letter said?" he asked coolly and glared at her.  
  
"A number would suffice," she said with a smile on her face.  
  
"Fine," he said and then paused before continuing, "... eight."  
  
"EIGHT! THAT'S GREAT RON, YOU BEAT FRED AND GEORGE!" Ginny yelled.  
  
"Keep it down will you, and I'll tell mum, so no blabbing. And yeah I beat the twins, but I didn't beat Percy and that's what I was aiming for. I knew it wouldn't happen but a bloke can hope can't he?" Ron asked.  
  
Ginny threw herself at her big brother and hugged him tightly and then stepped out of the way of the door so he could leave. She watched him leave with a large smile plastered on his face.  
  
_'Eights really is good, but it's a shame that I'm going to bury all my brothers when I sit my exams this year,'_ she thought evilly.  
  
Ron left his sisters room and headed back to his own room where he could sit down and fully absorb everything that had happened today and finally send an owl to Hogwarts telling them which N.E.W.T. Preparatory courses he would elect to take.  
  
It was going to be a very long night for Ron and he knew it. There was so much that he had to think about and act on and he didn't know where to start. If Harry had been at Grimmauld Place he could talk to him and start there, because that's where it truly began. It all started with Harry and not having him here threw a wrench into the gears that were turning in Ron's head.  
  
He entered his own private bedroom and sat down at the desk and pulled out two pages of blank of parchment and a quill with ink well.  
  
The first letter was addressed to his head of house Professor Minerva McGonagall asking to be enrolled in every single course that he had qualified for. The second was a letter addressed to his headmaster Professor Albus Dumbledore.  
  
Ron knew what he wanted to say and ask the man, but transferring his thoughts to words on parchment was going to be the task that kept Ronald Weasley up until he was satisfied with what he had written.  
  
Ron had started writing his letter to Headmaster Dumbledore at six in the evening the previous day, it was now eight in the morning when he finally decided that his twenty- third draft was going to get as good as it got. He called Pig down from the perch he had taken atop the bureau, tied both folded pieces of parchment to the leather thong attached to Pigs leg and sent the tiny owl on its way.  
  
As he watched Pigwidgeon fly off into the early morning light he hoped that he had said and asked the right questions. Then closed the open window that overlooked the back garden to Grimmauld Place and decided it was time for sleep. But tomorrow... tomorrow he would start his own training.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, but i have a confession to make. I wrote this entire story, well the 246,342 words in one go and couldnt possible have been bothered to edit it and decided to just post it here at That being said, I'm taking the advice of one of the best fanfiction writers for HP out there and trying to find a beta and beef up the dialogue. Those of you guys out there that already enjoy it, it'll only get better so no worries... I hope anyway. The next chapter is the start of Harry and Dumbledore's meeting and I'm not sure whether or not to post it and then go back for revamping the story or not, so let me know those of you that are reading this ;)

**BlindJedi:** You're awesome, thanks for my first review. And I knew about Griphook it was just a judgement call for the name- it'll most likely be changed when i go back and edit.

**BlueAdonis:** No, you rock!

**Csferosha:** Yes James is portrayed differently here, but there hasnt been anything mentioned in the books as to what James profession was. IMO- he was an unspeakable, with a possible cover of being a quidditch player; I dont really know and until its set in canon by Ms. Rowling this'll just be my reasoning. He's a dad, his son is in training- there's the dichotomy between being a the father and the trainer, I hope you see that as I'm not trying to make James Potter out to be some hard-ass. Oh yeah, I've read Realizations- awesome story, but its stalled out at chapter 27 so I'm like a junkie in need of a fix and the whole towns dry now.

**Athenakitty:** I'm sorry, but you're questions will be answered later on in the fic.

**Skeeter007:** Yeah similar, I get that as I was inspired by PoT, but I'm taking this somewhere completely different.

**Jgwatsonjg:** Thanks! It's coming.

**Numba1:** I'm baiting the shippers out there, testing the waters you could say.

**TuxedoMac:** I apologize that you dont like what I had happen to Hermione's parents, but she seemed the logical choice for a tragedy to befall one of Harry's friends. The Weasley's are at Grimmauld, and I'm assuming that being associated with Harry has led Dumbledore to install certain security wards around Hermione's parents residence, but wards can be broken- I'll go into how they got into Hermione's house a little later down the line.

**Sithspawn13:** Thanks, I appreciate you being on board with me on the view of Albus, but just be pissed off at the man, hates too strong a word- he made his choices and now he has to live with the consequences. An extreme dislike would be ok, but hates good, hate leads to suffering!

**Kathleen LaCorneille:** Wow! Thank-you so much. I mean wow. Your english is quite good, and I hope you forgive my errors as well, seeing as English is not my first language either ;).

**Halstead:** Your a reviewer after my own heart.

**Gallandro-83:** Thanks for liking the story. Hmmm, the punisher similarity isnt something that i was going for, but it works so thats cool i guess. The goblin rep, you'll have to wait and find out, and Harry will most certainly be having an interesting conversation with Tonks.

**Saetan:** Dude, if you can help me come up with a better description for the story, then I'm all ears, I suck at summarizing the story down to a couple sentences, and help would be appreciated.

**Jack Wilde:** Will do. Thanks again guys, and tell your friends about the story.

**Update:** uhm, sorry but this is replacing the original copy that I posted- I was an idiot and wrote that the story was 246,342 words- well that was the total without these 10 chapters added to it... sorry so its really 330,007, without the edits I'm doing now, sorry.


	11. Reconciliation: The Meeting

**Reconciliation:**  
  
"AGAIN!" the portrait of James Potter bellowed.  
  
Harry was down on one knee using his daito to hold him up; sweat dripping from every pore on his body, and his hair had fallen out of the thong he had used to tie it back with and was now clinging to his drenched face.  
  
Shallow slashes all over his upper body were all dripping blood, combining with his sweat to make a mixture of blood and perspiration that was slightly nauseating but had the effect of keeping Harry from passing out from exhaustion.  
  
Remus, having forced Harry at his own request to make the move to the next level with his physical and magical abilities was pushing the boy's boundaries. He knew that Harry was holding back, even as he looked like he was ready to collapse.  
  
There was a fear behind his eyes that turned Harry cold whenever he stepped into this room. He feared that he would actually hurt his trainer; a fear that was not needed nor wanted. So Remus pushed and pushed, and when Harry was back up to the wall and seemingly reaching the limit of everything he was capable, Remus started pounding him into the wall until he broke through and found another room of reserves- that Harry was hiding from himself. There was one time when Remus had been worried that he had actually pushed Harry so far over his own edge that he wouldn't get up, but a second later Harry seemed to regain consciousness and mounted a counterattack that completely broke Remus' clavicles in half, cracked his sternum, smashed his right elbow and left patella.  
  
Thankfully, a werewolf was capable of quicker regeneration that even the most powerful healing salves and potions offered; and in less than a day Remus was back on his feet waiting for the next days lesson- ready to not let his guard down where it concerned Harry any longer than necessary.  
  
They had moved on from bokken's and were now training strictly with what Harry called daito's, but what looked like an average katana blade to Remus . True to his observation Remus learned that daito was the japanese word for katana, amazed again that Harry was picking up another language during his personal studies- which themselves were so incredible that Harry returning to Hogwarts was looking to be waste of his time.  
  
Remus did not know what Harry was planning on doing once he returned to Hogwarts. The only personal thought that Harry had ever confided in Remus happened over occlumency/legilimency training three days prior to this particular training session, and that didn't reveal any answers to Remus other than that Harry was happy that Hermione was here with him and was actually doing something to help someone.  
  
Remus had been in shock when Harry left Silus' room after hearing Harry say that too him. He had not understood that Harry did not see that keeping the Philosopher's Stone safe, rescuing Ginny Weasley, rescuing his godfather after he was caught again, bringing Cedric Diggory's body back to his parents and keeping the prophecy- which he knew by heart now, no thanks to James and Sirius. All of these accomplishments seemed to mean nothing to Harry.  
  
Harry's reasoning was that was what was required of him to do, but that helping Hermione was something he didn't need to do but did to make sure that no one ended up like he did. Helping Hermione overcome hating him, learning to cope and deal with the loss that they both felt for their parents was something that truly made him feel that he was doing good.  
  
Remus was brought out of his recollection of Harry confiding in him when he heard James bellowing at Harry.  
  
Harry was struggling to stand. The open wounds all over his body were having their bleeding stalled by Harry's force of will- he wasn't able to heal himself but he could at least stem the bleeding for a small amount of time he discovered, just long enough to make it to his private apothecary. His training pants that he had sewn back together were nearly torn to shreds from Remus' onslaughts that were now lasting near the half hour mark and him using three quarters his strength against a barely struggling Harry.  
  
Harry was starting to make some progress with the new level that Remus was throwing at him but whenever that happened and Remus caught on, Remus _'enhanced'_ himself to further the training.  
  
Objects were now being thrown at Harry from all sides, controlled by Remus and therefore not prevented from stopping if one slipped past his defenses and wand, or on occasion an empty hand after Remus knocked the wand from his grip. There were also metal orbs circling around the battle, every time that they engaged they would shoot mild hexes at Harry from all angles that ranged from _'leg lockers'_ to a mild version of what the _'cruciatus'_ felt like.  
  
Also with Harry's help Remus had progressed with his legilimen's abilities and occlumency while helping Harry and this led to another plane that Harry was forced to defend himself on. In one battle where everything was being used, Harry was fighting inside his mind, the metal orbs, the flying furniture and animals sent to attack him, a werewolf, and the projected version of his father's portrait. Harry was calling these encounters six dimensional battles, and as much as he was hurt during the sessions, he loved every minute of it.  
  
He found that after the first week of training with Remus that he truly loved learning; no matter what the experience was that lead to his learning.  
  
Remus only chuckled when Harry would actually show the happiness he felt when he learned something new and applied it; and the fierce determination he had when he went after something with his bare hands- which was how some of the sword play would end when they both were disarmed by the projection of James and Harry was forced into hand to hand technique training. During which Harry was forbidden the use any of his wandless magic- which he didn't mind.  
  
Harry had tried with everything he had, but he knew that he stood no chance of defeating Remus with only strength in his techniques. This lead to him putting his sword techniques to use here and judging the situation, trying to guess what his opponent would do next and turn it against him. Had he been fighting a human opponent in any of the sparring sessions he would have won more than his fair share, Remus however was not afraid of a breaking limb or a snapped neck and never conceded a fight. With neither one of them willing to admit defeat until they were completely incapacitated, only drug out the inevitable defeat of Harry; something which kept him fully stocked with humility.  
  
Humility was another thing that Remus and his father had taught to him properly. Not that Harry was without _'proper'_ schooling on that matter from the Dursley's, but this was a matter of Harry controlling himself.  
  
No matter how strong or how powerful with magic he became there would always be someone better out there itching to test themselves with the closest thing that presented itself as a challenge.  
  
Harry may have been destined to kill Tom Riddle- he no longer acknowledged the second half of that line of the prophecy where it stated the possibility of Riddle killing him. But Harry knew that he was Remus' magical superior, he now knew more and was more skilled when they were simply dueling with their wands- here Remus was always paid back in full for Harry's defeats at hand to hand and sword techniques. Something that always caused his trainer to grin at, Remus was not a challenge to begin with when Harry had brought him to the manor, but he had proved useful as a testing partner.  
  
The only part of training so far from when Harry had first come to the manor and from when Remus stepped in to _'help'_ that did not end in pain was the start of Harry's animagus training. From what he knew of the process there would be a years worth of brewing potions involved and great research put into the transformation technique. However, he was surprised to learn that having had a father for an animagus; the potions that would have needed to be brewed and taken were already inside of him- having been passed down genetically. Harry considered this cheating, having wanted the full experience, but still grateful for the shortcut of inheritance that his father had left him. Even if he still had to submit himself to intense meditation to find his inner animal- something he had yet to accomplish. There seemed to be something blocking the visualization that was waiting for him to uncover. He had discussed this block with his father one night after all of his required training was complete, but the subject quickly died and was engrossed in the joy of conversing with Remus, his father and Sirius by the fire; while Hermione was in the library desperately trying in vain to catch up to Harry's level.  
  
She may be the smartest and cleverest witch at Hogwarts in the past forty years, but Harry's recent boost in aptitude for learning gave him an edge she didn't have and had her constantly coming to Harry for explanations of the seemingly impossible conclusions he had come to; and having to lay it all out in front of her to point out that when it came to magic that nothing was impossible- the basis of the theory of magic, 'magic is magic'.  
  
Harry was wincing as he finally stood on his own two feet without the help of his blade.  
  
"I don't think..." Harry tried to say before being cut off by his father's portrait.  
  
"YOU CAN! AND YOU WILL! REMUS!" the portrait of James shouted and gestured for Remus to attack Harry.  
  
_'This is just another wall for him to break down,'_ Remus thought as he raised his katana above his head holding onto it with both hands, his wand in its holster attached to his exposed forearm- there had been a few close calls when Harry nearly _'disarmed'_ Remus and the wands own natural protective abilities had been the only thing to save his limb. Another discovery that had shocked both Harry and Remus when it happened, but something that neither one wanted to research at the time and was reluctant to try again.  
  
Harry saw that Remus had prepared himself in a threatening stance. He made no move to arm himself for defense, he believed that he was done and empty for the day and that there wasn't anything left for him to use right now; that his magic and strength had been put to the test and exhausted. There was no room behind the wall that Remus had him backed against.  
  
Remus saw that Harry made no move to raise his weapon and took the opportunity to snap Harry out of his current daze. He leapt forward bringing his blade in a sweeping arc above his head, threatening to cleave Harry's head in two. Still there was no reaction from Harry save for a gentle sway.  
  
Just as Remus blade was centimeters from Harry's brow Harry's own instincts engaged themselves and Harry's daito in a smooth circular motion swept Remus attacking blade to the side of his body.  
  
_'Excellent feint,'_ Remus said to himself.  
  
With the force of Remus swing and Harry's sudden deflection Remus' katana struck the hardwood floor and dug itself into one of the shiny boards.  
  
Harry then feeling warmth spread through his body that was the result of him finally turning over from a revelation inside of himself that had occurred only seconds before, walked to where Remus was on one knee removing his blade from the floor. He struck Remus in the face without hesitation using his left fist, knocking Remus unconscious.  
  
Harry watched as Remus body hit the hardwood floor and land next to his daito that was still sticking hilt up in the air.  
  
The projection of James and Sirius were staring at the scene with dropped jaws, trying to come up with an explanation for what had just happened. Harry had knocked Remus out with a single blow? They both knew that Harry could do no such thing and that Remus was fighting near his own top limit.  
  
Harry looked from the knocked out body of Remus to the projections off his father and Sirius, their looks showed that they were still confused and he would have to explain what had just happened. He also saw something that looked almost like pride mixed with his fathers curious expression and that helped Harry feel a little more at ease about knocking out his instructor and friend.  
  
He knelt next to Remus and saw that his jaw that been broken was already starting to heal itself and placed a hand on his right shoulder and started to shake him awake.  
  
Remus woke with a startled expression and expectant expression on his face seeing Harry standing over him and was instantly ready to launch a counter attack should he make a move.  
  
Harry looked amused at Remus' sudden defensiveness.  
  
The last thing he had seen before he woke up was Harry's fist coming at him, but he had been knocked out. Harry couldn't do that. So he started to question his own sanity at that point, trying to figure out if he too was exhausted as Harry had looked a few moments earlier and was now hallucinating.  
  
Harry offered Remus his hand helping them both to stand. Remus turned to see the confused/odd look of surprise and pride of James face which only confused Remus even more.  
  
"I think I should tell you what happened," Harry started.  
  
Sirius cut in, "That'd be a start, how the bloody hell did you manage that!" he said pointing at a receding bruise on Remus' right cheek.  
  
All three of Harry's instructors folded their arms across their chests and Harry started laughing uncontrollably at the scene. It wasn't normal for Harry to lose composure during training and the talk he had given Remus when he first arrived about being serious during training was only something that could be used against him in this case; but Harry had to let it out. He was imagining each one of them back at Hogwarts staring at his mum when she explained something incredibly complex yet so incredibly simple at the same time to them, and these three men were in the top of their graduating class.  
  
The portrait projections of James and Sirius were starting to get tetchy at Harry's lack of control of the situation, but looking at each others confused and pride bearing expressions and arms folding across their chests trying to look like stern professors, and Remus who had unfolded his arms and was now rubbing his still sore jaw; now understood what Harry had found so hilarious and started to chuckle. Then they had to bring Remus in on what they were laughing at and soon all four of them were sitting on either the charred sofa or the chince chairs that had gashes in them revealing the white stuffing inside.  
  
"Ok, now that we've all had a good laugh and my jaw has stopped throbbing, would you care to explain how this happened," Remus said while pointing a finger and his own jaw.  
  
"You're a magical creature right Remus? No offense, but that's what you are now correct?" Harry asked first.  
  
"Yes, and don't worry about offending me Harry, you know I'm ok with my condition... and it is proving useful for once," Remus smilingly replied.  
  
"I'm a wizard, another form of a magical creature, but the magic flows out of me, unlike you Remus where your body is magic and you can use your magic through a wand..."  
  
Harry's three instructors were nodding trying to make the connection Harry was leading up to.  
  
"There is nothing that prevents a wizard or witch from letting them use magic the way you do Remus. You do it involuntarily because of your condition, and what I did was a variant of that. To put it in the simplest terms I am magically reinforced now." Harry said to his instructors who had their mouths open now understanding.  
  
"I am in no way all powerful..." Harry paused with a sly smile on his face looking at Remus, "... yet. The theory behind magic being magic is the basis for all of this. The magical muscle that I've been honing and training and having Remus put to the test is in a better state that it was when I first came here this summer. Imagine that you start with a flabby gut, and then you train and train and train and finally you can see every muscle in your abdomen, that's a physical representation of what just happened. Or thing of brewing some sort of strengthening potion, basically the same effects, only this form is lasting. My own magic strengthens me now in addition to what I already have physically, and this is just the start. I'm still the same wizard, but there should be some more advanced magic I should be able to practice a little easier now; and better in the future once I develop this some more. The only big change is that I'm stronger physically, and I hesitate in saying that I think I'd be able to take on Remus now, although I'm not completely sure about all of this. I've only been working with my own theories and noting my own progress to see where this would lead, and I'm happy to see the results to have lead down this road. So thank-you Remus for pushing through another barrier," Harry said at length and then offering his hand to Remus.  
  
Remus probably prouder than he had ever been in his entire adult life took Harry's hand and shook it like a man's. Another sly smile crossed Harry's face that was still glistening with perspiration as he looked at Remus and ignored the looks that his father and Sirius were giving him and asked, "Up for a little hand to hand?"  
  
Remus was actually a little apprehensive about this. Harry had just knocked him out cold with a single blow and explained that he had somehow toned his _'magical muscle'_ as he put it, but accepted the challenge with a slight predatory growl behind his acceptance.  
  
One minute after Remus had accepted Harry's challenge Harry was leaving the training room wearing an unnaturally smug expression. Inside the room were the projected version of James and Sirius trying console a very confused looking Remus Lupin. The month and half training prior to Remus' arrival and now with added benefit of Harry's recent 'advancement' using his 'magical muscle' closed the gap between the instructor's and pupil. It was apparent during the sparring session that Remus was still stronger than Harry, but Harry's knowledge of fighting techniques and newly enhanced strength and speed more than made up small difference between them; and Remus still not willing to concede a match was knocked out again and then revived. As soon as Remus was groggily getting up and seeing that Harry wasn't showing any emotion he nodded a silent approval to Harry, which Harry then nodded back his thanks and abruptly left the room to go heal his body in the potions lab.  
  
Harry having learned that it was best to avoid Hermione after his training sessions because of her worry over his injuries. Even when he assured her that they were all superficial and could be taken care of with a few simple spells and potions, apparated into his lab. However Hermione was in the lab at the same time that he apparated in, working on trying to perfect her brewing of the stage one dose of _'Wolfsbane'_. The first step to one of the more complex potions found in one of the obscure potions tomes found in the library.  
  
His apparition was nearly completely silent now when he was alone, but when he used forced apparation, something he had tested with Remus first and then with Hermione, there was still a soft pop. The noise was something he wanted to work on when Hermione had the time- this also gave him the excuse of holding her close to him, something that both of them enjoyed but said nothing about.  
  
They had grown extremely close over the past two and half weeks, since the shopping. Harry had found her a bedroom of her own in the manor and helped Tory set it up with almost the exact same setup he had. But later that night after Harry had passed out, she apparated into his bedchamber with a below average pop hoping that she didn't rouse Harry. Due to his exhaustion he didn't hear a thing and she crawled into bed next to him.  
  
It had been the same every night after that, where Hermione would sneak into his bedroom; except on occasion when Hermione would be tired at the same time Harry had decided to go to bed and she would silently follow him to his room. Harry never objected when she came into his room with him. He chose only to smile at her and revel in her embrace. Which he told her every night that he was awake he had never been as content as when they slept together.  
  
There had been a time when Hermione's lips had kissed one of the welts that was still apparent on Harry's chest and sent an electric shock straight through his body and into his groin causing a sleeping Harry to become aroused. Hermione had had the most difficult time trying to stifle her laughter and curiosity when this happened, but forced herself never to do that again lest she lose her own self control.  
  
Hermione had felt the slight breeze but no sound except for bare feet on stone signifying that Harry was in the lab. Her wand was never more than out of an arms length away and after a week of being in Harry's presence and learning occlumency at his request, telling her that it would help her; she was now no longer scared of being attacked in the manor. Harry had promised her that she would be safe wherever she went here and whenever he was with her, and she was now completely used the secure feeling that she felt with Harry.  
  
She continued stirring in the clockwise motion that the book had instructed, did not turn around but asked, "Did you have a good session today?"  
  
Harry had hoped that he wouldn't be caught. It was turning into a sort of game with them lately with apparation. He muttered a damn to himself for losing and then replied, "Better than usual, how is the..." Hermione could hear him sniffing and then he asked, "..., _'Wolfsbane'_ coming along?"  
  
Hermione could tell even without looking at him that Harry had a smug expression on his face. They had grown close enough over the two and half weeks that she could see the expression on his face by the emotion that he put into his words. Even when he was masking his emotions she could decipher his facial expressions. She had yet to point that out to him, for fear of losing some sort of an edge over him; really the only edge she had. Everything she had once held over him save this one observational ability had been thrown out the window the day after they had returned from their shopping excursion and Harry pointed out to her everything that he had been doing and then spent several hours explaining why he had been able to prove that things that shouldn't have been able to be accomplished from what she read he had done; and seemingly without any effort once he did it for the first dozen or so times.  
  
Since then, she had spent every waking moment in Harry's library pouring over the same books that he had read, trying to catch up to him.

After the first week she had nearly conceded defeat until he pointed out he had a month an half lead over her and then said given the same time and determination with focus she would have been kicking his arse at the moment in whatever he was doing.  
  
He had told her he wouldn't say what he was doing in the training room and she still respected his privacy and hadn't pressed to know. Hermione had figured that it had to be some form of practical training that he had been doing in theory in the library, but with the injuries that he sometimes wore, or the state of his clothes when he come through the library, saying a quick hello, and then entered the apothecary to heal himself. That was until she had started to question him about his injuries and then he started to apparate directly into the lab to avoid her inquiries. Only then did she stop asking and accept that what he was doing he had his reasons for.  
  
"I think I've got it this time. Sixth batch of the stage one dose, and I'm more than sure that its perfect. Even by Professor Snape's standards," she said happily but still not turning around so she could focus on her stirring and swishing.  
  
Harry ignored the mention of Snape's name in his presence. He'd gotten to the point with honing in the gift the house and his father had given him that he was able to perfectly keep his negative emotions in check.  
  
"Knowing you and how hard you've been working lately I'd be willingly to wager that it's above even his standards Hermione," Harry said happily while reaching for the scar removal unction he kept in stock at all times. He had already used his wand before he opened the apothecary cabinet to seal his wounds. Although he should have done it without the wand, he was starting to work on what were fifth year level magic without a wand and it wasn't coming as quickly to him as he would have liked, but with this afternoons advancement he was interested to know how far he would progress before he plateaud again.  
  
Hermione was smiling and blushing at Harry's off hand compliment. Even though she knew that he knew was doing it without thinking. His pride and belief in her and her abilities had saved her from what would have been a relapse last week, and that had been when he had offered to teach her occlumency and then legilimency if she wanted it later. They were now truly better than best friends, but neither one of them wanted to cross the line that they could not step back from and found that were more than content to just be in each others presence, embracing each other without moving forward. Although they had both thought about it. They had settled for the warmth and happiness they now possessed. What they had now was something that they couldn't lose by just being close to one another.  
  
"Do you want me to send Remus up to check it for you later?" Harry asked rubbing the unction into each one of his newly acquired slash marks.  
  
Still stirring and not looking at him, "Could you? That'd be great."  
  
"I have to go out later this evening so I'll send him as soon as I see him in Silus' room. I have cut that lesson short anyway to make my meeting," Harry said spinning the cap on the unction bottle and putting it back in the apothecary and closing the wooden doors.  
  
"A meeting with whom?" Hermione inquired.  
  
"Albus. I have to talk to him," Harry said flatly.  
  
Hermione finally stopped stirring happy with the potion at the moment and turned to face him. Looking through her safety glasses she eyed him.  
  
"A civil meeting to offer a truce... a cessation to hostilities," Harry said with his arms folded across his bare chest and meeting her stare.  
  
"I knew you couldn't hold a grudge with Professor Dumbledore," she said with a triumphant air and smile.  
  
"The grudge is still there Hermione, but I'm not blind to the fact that we'll have to work together, and I have to discuss this coming school term with him," Harry replied almost sadly but not showing it.  
  
"Can I ask what you're going to be talking about for this coming school year? Oh and can you get my O.W.L. results from him, I've been dying to know how I did?" Hermione asked and then turned back to make sure her potion was still doing fine and needed five more minutes of low heat before the next step could be taken, before turning back to Harry.  
  
"Yes you can ask," Harry said coyly.  
  
"Ooh don't be a smart arse Harry, you don't need to be smarter than me at anything else!" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
"I didn't know that my arse could be smarter than yours, but if you've been checking..." Harry tried to say but couldn't keep a straight face and carry on with the witty banter, so he started laughing and clutching his sides as it truly hurt to laugh at the moment.  
  
Hermione gave him a mock scowl, but then smiled and tilted her head to the side to give an appraising look just to beat him at his own game.  
  
Harry caught on and raised an eyebrow and stopped laughing.  
  
"You started, I just finished it," Hermione stated.  
  
"If that's how you want it?" Harry asked in a veiled threat but still smiling at her.  
  
"Want what?" Hermione asked mocking Harry.  
  
"Fine, I need to get up to Silus' room and then get ready. I'll just have to see whether or not I can remember to get your O.W.L. results," Harry airily said making to apparate out.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
Harry smiled in triumph, "Relax Hermione. I'm sure that you received O's and probably a commendation on top of most of them," Harry sincerely said to Hermione.  
  
"You really think I did that well? You aren't just making fun of me and my studying obsession?" Hermione asked warily aware that Harry and Ron used to mock her studying all the time.  
  
"Hermione, I am not just sure of it, I believe it. And about your study habits..." Harry said nodding his head and raising his eyebrows purposely singling himself out, "...have you seen me in the library? I don't think I have an apple box to stand on, do you?" Harry spoke while holding her shoulders with his hands.  
  
Hermione with what truly was a genuinely happy smile looked up at Harry and said, "Thank-you Harry... but I will beat you in your studies, it's my number one goal right now. Well that and S.P.E.W. You're lucky that Tory's free!"  
  
Harry rolled his eyes before meeting Hermione's, "Are you challenging me Ms. Granger?"  
  
"I would call it threatening, but you can place whatever label you feel is appropriate on it that you deem worthy," she said before turning back to her cauldron.  
  
"Very well then," Harry said after he had been dismissed by Hermione's turned back and hidden smile, then apparated out without so much as the slightest breeze he had come in with.  
  
Harry apparated directly into Silus' room, positioned himself in the 'lotus' position on top of his training seat prepared for the day's lesson.  
  
Remus was seated across from him and had only arrived a few seconds prior. He was still feeling a slight sting to his pride that Harry had knocked him out again. He had made the decision along with James, with the voice of dissension from Sirius that they had pushed Harry far enough for the summer. They were going to have to come up with more inventive and definitely stronger ways to train Harry when he was there for his practical lessons. The three had been debating having Remus accompany him outside the manor for a 'real' experience, but James didn't want Remus there to see what Harry had really been trained to do to death eaters, and eventually Tom Riddle.  
  
"Ready?" asked with another slight growl.  
  
Harry threw the growl off and replied, "We're going have to make this session a short one I have to leave the manor this evening."  
  
"Why are you leaving the manor again? You aren't going to collect Ron are you?" Remus asked.  
  
"No, thank-you, I'm enjoying a quiet and 'peaceful' summer holiday," Harry said with a smile.  
  
"Oh, good, because I was going to say that even with what you did to me today..." Remus said mock rubbing his jaw that no longer hurt, but gave him something to do when he was threatening Harry now, "... that it would be stupid for you to walk into Grimmauld Place and tell your friend that you're taking him to your secret hideaway for the rest of the summer."  
  
"You make it seem like the manor is Never Never Land Remus," Harry replied with a smaller smile now.  
  
"Never Never Land?" Remus asked confused.  
  
"Muggle fairy tale of sorts, besides Ron would probably jump at the idea once he got over the photograph I know he's seen by now. C'mon lets get the lesson started," Harry said a little excited.  
  
_'What photograph?'_ Remus asked himself.  
  
Remus had really been progressing with occlumency, and while not presenting the slightest challenge to Harry's legilimency; it was still interesting to find different avenues for attacking the mind and finding out how it worked. That the minds own neurological pathways could be disrupted or manipulated. Harry had a good laugh when he caused Remus to fall asleep and wake up thinking that he had been dreaming about a gorgeous blonde with enormous breasts that she had been shoving into his face. The laugher had not stopped until Remus' bokken knocked Harry flat on his arse the next afternoon. But when Harry told his father and Sirius what he had done they started wishing they were human so that he could do that; and James had a good laugh at his son when he suggested if he were alive he could send the same dream only of Lily. Remus thought James' pranking of Harry and his knocking on his bum was ample payment for the previous night.  
  
Remus own Legilimency techniques while still basic were being put to use today to allow Harry to see how different users of the technique assessed the mind they were trying to gain access too.  
  
In all it was a good lesson, but Harry now required more. He was interested to see if Dumbledore would try to enter his mind this evening, in an attempt to pry information from Harry that he would not be willing to give when questioned. Although Silus had imparted knowledge to Harry on the method in which Dumbledore himself was trained as a legilimens, in an effort to prevent an un-welcomed search.  
  
The thought of possibly having one more skill that Harry had taken upon himself to learn without any of Albus' interference was something that Harry was looking forward to present this evening- a final foot in the grave for Albus' _'sound'_ reasoning regarding Harry's life and education.  
  
The lesson finished after an hour and a half. After which Harry apparated directly to his private loo; showered quickly and dressed in a stylish muggle business suit. He was thankful for the adjustment charms Sirius had placed upon the clothing, as he had grown another inch.  
  
He decided against the tie because of the freedom to breathe the open collar allowed him. Also he was not about to stand on occasion for this evening any more than absolutely necessary.  
  
Harry tied his hair back in a black leather thong, and strapped a platinum magical watch to his left wrist. The watch that Sirius had left for him was now programmed with a piece of Hermione's hair; to let him know if she was home- the manor, in mortal peril, or at school, it also offered a view of the planetary alignment at the moment, provided a low-yield shield capable of absorbing two intermediate level hexes before faltering and programmed for an emergency portkey. Harry had taken the time to read the manuals for every one of his magical pieces of jewelry to find their exact properties... for pleasure reading as it did not fit in with his academic studies.  
  
Checking the non-magical mirror and happy with his appearance, he remembered that he was going to send Remus up to Hermione but forgot to tell him. He apparated back to Silus' room where he found the two engaged in the debate in regards to whether or not using legilimency while physically attacking someone simultaneously, was a positive or negative; as to the fact that it left your mind open to attack from other practitioners of the art- if there were said practitioner's involved as well.  
  
"Remus! Didn't mean to interrupt you two, but Hermione's brewed a batch of stage one _'Wolfsbane'_ and I was wondering if you would be so kind as to further Hermione's ego, rather I should say confidence?" Harry asked while fixing the cuff of his white linen shirt and grinning with pride at the thought of Hermione's furthering of her own studies while at the manor.  
  
"Excuse me Silus," Remus said respectfully turning from the portrait with a nod of acknowledgment from Silus.  
  
Remus was quite aware of Harry's elegant attire, and if Harry had been paying attention to Remus facial expressions he would have seen the feral glint in his eye- the only sign that this marauder was ever up to something. Remus was not called the most dangerous marauder for no reason; he was the only one of them that could keep a straight face whenever _**'anything'**_ _**'occurred'**_ at Hogwarts.  
  
"No problem Harry. You're able to give a more than accurate assessment of that particular potion though, why didn't you check it out?" Remus inquired with raised eyebrows and arms folded across his now t-shirt clad chest.  
  
Whatever it was that Remus was playing at Harry was not going to be suckered in so easily.  
  
"You know, Hermione would take it as an _'honor'_ if a real live werewolf would tell her that her potion was brewed and bottled correctly. You remember the story about my first experience, I think Hermione might have a slight apprehension now because of that same story," Harry said look at the cuff that refused to let the button come undone.  
  
"I'll head up the lab in a few minutes then. Silus and I were just about to finish when you popped in anyway, my liege" Remus replied adding in the title quickly at the end.  
  
"Thanks Moony," Harry said with a mocking bow to Remus' ploy to draw him out.  
  
Harry apparated back to the potions lab where Hermione was busy mashing scarab beetles with her mortar and pestle for another potion while her stage one _'Wolfsbane'_ waited for Remus' approval.  
  
This time Hermione did not hear Harry apparate in, but instead saw him when he appeared in front of her on the opposite side of the lab station she was working at. She looked up from her mortar and pestle and took in the exquisitely dressed Harry Potter.  
  
After looking him up and down, "You look quite dashing Harry."  
  
"Why thank-you I wanted to at least give the appearance of mutual respect," Harry replied knowing how formal this evening was likely to turn out to be.  
  
"I just talked to Remus and he'll be up in a few minutes to take a look at your _'Wolfsbane'_. I still say that you made it perfect, and don't know why you won't take my word for it," Harry said smiling at her now blushing cheeks.  
  
Trying to focus on the scarabs she was mashing instead of the clean smell of Harry she said, "Okay."  
  
She hadn't ever known Harry to use cologne, and ever since the ride on Buckbeak in her third year she would know Harry's scent anywhere.  
  
"I must be off," Harry said rocking on his heels a bit. "Just wanted to say good-bye and make sure you were content before I left for a couple of hours."  
  
There was something about Hermione's presence that always put him in a cheerful mood and he figured he would need a little of that cheerfulness to start the night.  
  
"Harry," she said looking up from the beetles, "don't forget my O.W.L.'s or yours for that matter. Or you will pay dearly. You sleep like a rock and I would hate for something terrible to happen to you, understand?" she threatened with the pestle in hand.  
  
Not believing a word of the threat she was issuing he said, "I understand completely."  
  
"Good," she replied with a smile and then went back to work on the beetles.  
  
Harry shook his head for an instant while smiling at a very concentrated looking Hermione and then apparated back to his wardrobe room where he found the portkey that would take him to the restaurant where he was meeting Dumbledore. The portkey's were still square pieces of plastic, but Harry had taken to engraving the destination and whether or not they were roundtrip or reusable on the top and started to call them _'tickets'_ instead of portkey's- it was just easier that way. This way he didn't have to reach out with his magic to sort through all the different pieces of plastic to find the portkey he was looking for.  
  
"Atlantis," he said and disappeared.  
  
Harry portkeyed to the alley behind the Atlantic Bar and Grill in Soho a few moments before Albus' would bring him here.  
  
He was interested to know if Albus would come alone or bring along a few members of the Order of the Phoenix to try and bring him in. If the situation turned out to be the latter of the two possible scenarios, he would simply apparate to outside the apparition wards at Hogwarts and make his was to the headmaster's office. There Harry would only have a more aggravated conversation with Albus. That was as long as the headmaster hadn't taken to changing the password to the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to his office to something other than names of wizard sweets.  
  
Harry took a look at his watch and watched the half life of the radiation in the atmosphere tick second by second until it was five twenty nine and fifty eight, fifty nine, five thirty. The man that Harry had loathed and was deemed by the people of the wizarding world as the greatest wizard of the age appeared before him looking a little older than the last time that Harry had been in his presence.  
  
Which in truth, the last meeting with Albus that he had hadn't been the greatest and the old man did not look much better then than he did now.  
  
Albus Dumbledore was dressed in an open collared white linen shirt and brown corduroy pants with sandals. Harry was thinking that Albus did not do much business in the muggle world and this was probably something left over from the seventies and the first rise of Tom Riddle.  
  
Albus Dumbledore, as Harry, was appraising his dress. Eyeing Harry with what could only be called pride... an expression that Harry chose to overlook.  
  
Albus had seen the photograph of Harry winking at the photographer on the front page of the Daily Prophet and was slightly upset with Harry's flagrant disregard for his and Ms. Granger's safety. Although he was unaware as to the measures Harry had taken to keep Ms. Granger safe; but if a wizard photographer had gotten close enough to take a picture, then surely a death eater would have been able to get close as well without his detection.  
  
Unless of course, as Albus suspected, Harry had arranged for this photo opportunity before-hand in a blatant show of his contempt for the orders supposed attempts at security.  
  
The conversation they were going to have was sure to be one of the most interesting Albus had had with a student in more than two decades. The setting though left something to be desired he thought.  
  
With his usual cheerful smile and happy grand-father like nature he spoke first.  
  
_'Gryffindor's go forward,'_ Harry thought sarcastically. _'Perhaps I should have been in Slytherin. A forked tongue would probably come in handy right about now.'  
_  
"Good-evening Harry," Albus said with a nod. "I must say this is a...," he paused to choose his words while taking in the decrepit alleyway and garbage bins, "... very interesting place to have a private meeting, are you quite positive that you could not provide better accommodations? You certainly look to be overdressed for this... particular location, and do please tell me, when did you acquire the skill of programming portkey's? And without ministry approval, I am interested to know, among other things as well."  
  
_'Wow,'_ was the only thought that coursed through his head after hearing that.  
  
"Forgive me Albus for bringing you here first. Allow me to lead you to where we will conduct our meeting," Harry said gesturing for Albus to follow him.  
  
"Please lead the way Harry," Albus replied with a nod and a smile.  
  
Harry led Albus Dumbledore around the corner of the alley and past the line of waiting patrons who were patiently waiting for a table inside the posh restaurant.  
  
"Harry, perhaps it would be wise if we were to queue up?" Albus asked.  
  
_'Albus,'_ Harry thought, wanting to shake his head back and forth in annoyance.  
  
Harry ignored Dumbledore's question and continued to the front of the line and spoke with the maitre d' out of range of Albus.  
  
To Albus' surprise the maitre d' looked up from reservation log on the podium and nodded. Harry in turn motioned for Albus come along and follow him down the stairs and through what looked to be an old ballroom; to the restaurant seating in the back.

* * *

Authors Note: Sorry about the late update, but duty calls- well, money calls really. This is the start to Harry and Dumbledore's confrontation. I'm going to keep posting, but only once every couple of days while i go back and fix really really blatant mistakes, and work my way up to the current chapters. No worries, you'll get the un-edited, un-beta'd chapter on time without delay.

**Athenakitty:** Inquisitive, inquisitive, inquisitive.

**Aerie22:** Holy-shit! I totally dig your fic, right up until Harry ends up with Padma- man o man, you're such a great author, thank-you for your kind words.

**Maehem:** Thanks.

**Black-Hood:** Wow, thank-you.

**Limar:** Harry kick Dumbledore's ass, are you insane? Dont answer that question, I dont want fingers to get pointed at me ;).

**TuxedoMac:** Thanks tux, drop me a line and let me know what really irks you about the tragedy i used since im going back and doing the whole _**'editing'**_ thing.

**BlueAdonis:** Are you c-diddy?

**Maggie36:** Thank-you, I will.

**Earl:** You are absolutely right, and the baiting I'll point that I hate as much as anyone else, but you're absolutely right, and i mean absolutely right. Did you hack my computer and read some of my unpublished fic or something- your review was scary.

**Actionmaster:** Bows head in respect, thank-you very much. I appreciate it.

**Andromeda Snape-Malfoy:** There is way more to the mansion than just the training room, the three bedrooms i've made reference to, the kitchen, the basement, silus' room. I just haven't made mention of the rest of the manor. Simply because something is not mentioned does not mean that it isnt there. Sorry for the confusion.

**Tara6:** Thank-you very much.

**Tim:** Wow, I'm honored to be your first review. Sorry about not getting it out sooner then.

**Cathy-Ann:** Excellent reasoning.

**Dragonslayer:** Will do.

**Skeeter0007:** I know what you mean about getting hooked and then left hanging.

**Tracy:** Spot on.

**Jena Rink:** I am wholey undeserving of those words, but thank-you none the less and i hope i wont let you down in the future.

**Kathleen LaCorneille:** You are by far, my favourite reviewer. I look forward to reading what you have written, and your own story's WOW, EXCELLENT.

**Anonymous:** Yeah I know it was griphook and i'll go back and fix it, geez and yeah i know that Harry's vault number was never given in the book, but i think that there was a number in the movie, and i think that'll suffice for the time being. No, I say that I understand the O level exams that O.W.L.'s are based on, but i'll go check out the infor at the lexicon. Thanks, I appreciate what you wrote, call me on more if you spot anything.

**Joe:** Dont worry about the ships, nothing has sailed.


	12. Reconciliation: The Choices We Make

**Reconciliation: The Choices We Make**  
  
There was a collective groan from the group at the front of the queue and a few outbursts from the middle of the line, all pissed that these two men had just been able to walk up and immediately be ushered off for seating. Harry ignored the groans and muttered insults. He had made reservations and fortune smiles on the prepared mind.  
  
The maitre d', who was a man of average height with mousy brown hair and a happy demeanor seated them in the far corner of the smoke free section, offered them the wine list and said he would return shortly to retrieve their order; then made to leave.  
  
Harry stopped him before he left, "Do you have a bottle of Ridge-Geyserville Zinfandel on hand?"  
  
The maitre d' snapped his fingers and a server walked over from where he had just delivered another table's entrée's. He titled his head next to the servers ear, after which the server disappeared and the maitre d' said with a small smile, "Taylor will return with your choice in a few moments."  
  
The man then held his hand out expectantly for the list to be returned and then promptly returned to his position at the front of the restaurant.  
  
Impressed, Albus said, "I see that Ms. Granger's worldly knowledge of wine and cuisine is paying off on more than one occasion Harry."  
  
"Seeing as how I never had the opportunity to travel and learn such things, even in the place that was supposedly a home and safe place for me; I am quite pleased to be taking lessons from Hermione, Albus," Harry replied coolly.  
  
"Are we going to start this conversation off in such a way Harry, you're letter mentioned a civil discussion?" Albus asked tentatively.  
  
"The letter I left for you did speak of a civil conversation between us, but seeing as how I have neither lost my temper nor replied in a raging outburst I have not broken my word. I am reigning in my contempt for you this evening as it is," Harry replied calmly.  
  
"That is all I can ask for then," Albus said with a small smile that masked the sadness behind his eyes.

The server returned with two glasses and an open bottle of red wine and left them with the menu before disappearing.  
  
"Harry, I suggest you let me set up a privacy ward for this discussion. There are many things that do not need to be overheard by unfriendly ears," Albus stated.  
  
"I can assure that there are no unfriendly ears here. But if you are as paranoid as Alastor, or _that_ worried about our current position and possible eavesdropping I wont stop you," Harry said chuckling and carefully poured them each a glass of wine the way that Hermione had instructed him back at the manor.  
  
Albus had to smile at the fact that Harry was actually smiling and his confidence that there was no one here at the restaurant that would pay any attention to them. The fact that Harry seemed so sure was slightly unsettling to him. Over-confidence was the downfall to many men; even if Harry was surreptitiously looking around the restaurant while not aware Albus noting these small mannerisms.  
  
"Very well, I insist," Albus said and fingered the wand under his right sleeve and setting up and in invisible bubble that would contain all conversation between the two inside of the shields radius.  
  
With a genuine smile from scanning the room and noting that Albus watched him, with only the slightest hint that that was what he was doing and handing over a glass of wine he asked, "Do you wish to start, or should I?"  
  
"I'd like to ask a few questions first if that is alright Harry." Albus said.  
  
Harry noted that what Albus had said wasn't a question but rather a statement that he would be initiating an interrogation, but he decided to let it slide and see where the questions led.  
  
"Interrogate me then," Harry said with a devious smile that again unsettled Albus but did not show outwardly.  
  
Harry saw Albus falter for a moment and felt a brief twinge of triumph inside of him.  
  
"Harry, I am not here to interrogate you. I am here more or less for a learning experience and to see what you have truly asked me here for besides a... fine meal," Albus started.  
  
Harry nodded but did not say anything.  
  
"I know from Sirius' last letter to me that you were emancipated, so that informed me of how this had all come to pass, but were your relatives truly that horrible? Had I made such a mistake sending you there? Had your mother made such a mistake?" Albus asked sadly and then picked up his menu.  
  
_'Bringing my mother into this? That's low Albus.'_  
  
Harry took a light drink from glass before speaking, and then said, "Yes."  
  
"I see. Then my second question is why did you not choose to inform me of the situation. Allow me the knowledge so I could rectify the problem before you so rashly severed your ties with your relatives, causing them to be put in danger and consequently moved against their will to a secure location?" Albus asked again this time staring at Harry and making a very impassive face when he made mention of moving the Dursley's.  
  
Harry eyed the menu for a moment before answering, drawing Albus' full attention away from his own menu.  
  
"Could you have a found a suitable location for me to relocate, complete with another set of blood relatives? This time, preferably ones that gave at least a damn about my well being and did not threaten me day and night. Or would you have administered a congeniality potion to each one of them against their will to make the household seem more peaceful while I was there? Perhaps maybe a bribe? You make a mistake in referring to them as my relatives, those people mean absolutely nothing to me, they never have. I was forced to live in a five by five cupboard for ten and half years Albus, constantly threatened to be thrown back in there every summer that I was forced to go back there. Forced to return to those people without an explanation as to why, until you finally saw fit to explain the situation to me. Explained after the incident at the ministry because you had made the mistake of not telling me when you should have years ago, I might add. You admitted to telling me that you should have told me because I proved that I was capable of dealing with it and shouldering the burden, however heavy it might have been then. The same weight that you will never know that I have loaded onto my shoulders now..."  
  
Albus interrupted Harry at this point leaning forward in his chair, "Harry, do not presume to think that you are the only one burdened with a prophecy and responsibilities. Do not be blind to that."  
  
The old man then leaned back and tented his fingers.  
  
Harry's stoic expression did not change as Albus had hoped his statement would have.  
  
_'Harry, are you so far gone that your anger does blind you from me?'_ Albus asked himself.  
  
"I am mad at you Albus, but I do not hate you; do not confuse those two emotions so easily..." Harry paused as the waiter returned to take their order.  
  
Albus Dumbledore let out an audible sigh, which drew an inquisitive look from the server.  
  
Albus was both shocked to hear that Harry could be so calm when describing ten and half years of physical and mental abuse and then what he surely had endured in the subsequent summers that he had never told him about. Because he knew that Dumbledore could do nothing about it. Admittedly Dumbledore could do nothing about it except for threaten the Dursley's, and without a guard present at all times there was no way to secure Harry's well being in that household. He had told Harry at the end of last term that he knew that he had condemned Harry to ten long years, but he did not believe that he had truly CONDEMNED the boy in every sense of the word. The mention that Harry had come to this conclusion by himself years ago sat heavy on his heart. But having Harry explain that he was simply mad at him, and did not _'hate'_ him helped alleviate the some of the pain he felt. Anger could be dealt with; hate however, was without reasoning. Anger and contempt Albus Dumbledore could deal with in regards to the boy he still considered to be surrogate grandson.  
  
Harry had already known what he was going to order so the moment he paused during his explanation and the waiter passed through the privacy shield he handed the menu over and told him that he would have the chef's specialty. The waiter nodded, accepted the menu and turned his attention to Dumbledore, who replied that he would be pleased if he were brought a plate of whatever the maitre d' recommended; having found nothing on the menu that actually interested him. Harry had already made that same conclusion about the menu. This is why he chose this particular restaurant. He wanted to have a discussion, and not a meal. A glass of wine would help to loosen them up, maybe; but not so much as to have an effect on their occlumency shields and invite one another's legilimency probes.  
  
The waiter, happy to be able to choose for the older man, quickly accepted the menu from him and mentioned something about how Albus would enjoy what he returned with.  
  
When the waiter had left the privacy shield, both Harry and Dumbledore smiled deceptively at one another knowing that neither of them would end up doing more than picking at the food.  
  
"Why didn't you go after Sirius the night my parents were murdered, or send someone after him?"  
  
Caught completely off-guard by not expecting this line of questioning Albus responded with only what he could, "Harry, we were all under the impression that Sirius was your parent's secret keeper. He was the only one who could have caused the events of that night to take place, or so everyone thought I am saddened to admit. In hindsight, we all should have seen the obvious, not just James, Sirius and Pettigrew. I sent no one after Sirius, because I had you to worry about. I was preoccupied."  
  
_'Hind-sight? Preoccupied? I will not be blamed for Albus' oversight on this, I WILL NOT!'  
_  
Reigning in his physical expressions of disgust, but not the disgust that dripped from his words Harry spoke softly, "Hagrid fly's to Privet Drive on orders from you to deliver me there, not Sirius my godfather, my...rightful...guardian. On Sirius' motorbike no less, tells you that he's going to return the bike to _'young black'_, you leave me on a doorstep with a note, and disappear. Oh yes Albus, occlumency has paid off concerning my memory so dont look like that," Harry said noting Albus' almost confused like expression. "Next my godfather is thrown in Azkaban without a trial and left to rot for twelve years? Tell me what happened?"  
  
Only years of dealing with ministry officials and political parties prevented Albus from displaying the multitude of sorrowful emotions he felt.  
  
"Harry, I do not have the words to tell you how sorry I am, there was nothing that could be done then. Even I was taken in by Sirius' apparent guilt. It was only too easy after everything we had been through, everything we had survived and still had to survive to believe that Sirius betrayed your parents, killed Peter and those muggles. I am sorry Harry, I am truly sorry."  
  
Harry couldn't believe what Albus was telling him. Twelve years. Twelve years of absolute hell, because everyone was too happy that the war seemed to be over to care, too happy to think? All he could do was stare stonily at the old man offering his belated condolences.  
  
What could he say? There was nothing to be done. It was so simple, so stupid, so infuriatingly idiotic that the whole thing had happened; and this was all that Harry could find out from the man who had been there on that night. This was the only explanation available to him. Was there no underlying reason or conspiracy as with everything else in his life? This was not it, this was not all, and it couldn't be.  
  
_'Sirius, is that it?'_ Harry asked himself skeptical of Albus' words. _'It's too right, IT'S TOO FUCKING RIGHT!'  
_  
Harry couldn't argue with himself. As much as he hated it, as much as he wanted to deny what Albus had just told him and string the old man up until he told the truth and admitted that he had kept Sirius there on purpose...  
  
The epiphany struck him as hard as he believed lightening would have, and with glazed eyes he asked in the straightest tone he could muster, "Absolutely nothing to do with the blood-protection?"  
  
Albus stonily replied, "No."  
  
"Do not lie to me, tell me the truth and tell me now."  
  
"Harry, there is absolutely no connection between your blood-protection, and Sirius imprisonment," Albus said, although his own eyes were teary like Harry's, an oversight he was not able to correct quickly enough.

How was it that Albus could compose himself so well and show nothing in front of the worlds leaders, enduring their insults, their lies, their stupidity- all without looking like he had just tasted a very enjoyable lemon drop? But when it came to this boy sitting in front of him, or the young man he looked to be; his emotional shields all but faltered at the slightest word.

He took one deep breath before speaking to Albus again, "I told you not to lie to me."  
  
Harry knew the truth. He knew the damned truth that Albus had kept Sirius locked up to keep him from Harry.  
  
_'TOO KEEP ME PROTECTED! LEGILIMENS!'_ He screamed inside his head, his wand in his hand the second before he screamed out the word.  
  
Albus felt Harry smoothly slide inside his mind, bypassing his own occlumency shields without pausing in an attempt to break through them seeming to know his way instinctively passed his defenses and tearing through the memories that had been kept hidden from the world for more than a century.  
  
Harry had found what he was looking for. The night. The night his parents were murdered, betrayed by their friend. The night he was stolen from his rightful place, the night Albus Dumbledore- Headmaster of Hogwarts sat in office crying into the palm of his hands... the night that Albus condemned two people. Only now that he had seen it, experienced the memory was he feeling resistance from Dumbledore's mind. He wasn't ready to go yet, what else was being kept from him? What else had he been lied to about? He was then ripped away after only having barely felt the resistance. Albus had finally found a way to remove Harry from his mind.  
  
Harry just stared at the old man, mouthing the word, "why", while trying desperately not to cry or lash out and attack the man for what he had done.  
  
Albus showed no emotion. Not sadness, not remorse, not guilt, not even sympathy for what Harry had been through and just seen. His eyes however spoke volumes about how Harry had managed to enter his mind so easily and how wrong he had been. The boy was not strong enough to hold on, but he had been strong enough to break in without a second spell.  
  
Albus thought, _'How?'  
_  
_'Why?'_ Harry thought.  
  
"Harry, how is that you used your wand without a ministry owl coming to inform you of breaking the law?" Albus asked.  
  
Harry stared disbelieving at the man across from him. He had just seen the true reason for Sirius' imprisonment- not just that the world suspected him of the death eater second in command to Voldemort, but that Albus had left him there on purpose; and now Albus was asking about Harry's use of a wand. The world had just taken a turn for the surreal for Harry.  
  
They sat in silence, staring at one another. Albus not wanting to discuss what had happened and discuss matters of the now and not the past. He had made his decisions and he would pay for them when the time came, but it had been for the best. Harry was dumbfounded and trying decide what to do quickly.  
  
Albus was concerned at the prospect of Harry having used his wand outside of school and being under review for expulsion. Something that could not be allowed to happen under any circumstances right now.  
  
_'There's not one thing I can do, is there?'_ he asked himself.  
  
Then he felt it, the probing sensation of a legilimens attempt to enter his mind and stopped Albus attempt by speaking before the attack and defense would ensue.  
  
"Just stop. What do you want?" Harry was in a completely dazed state.  
  
What was he supposed to do now? It seemed so pointless and wrong to have to ask this man for help. Asking him more questions would only get him more lies. All Harry had to do was look at the man and see that he would continue on the way that he always had. There was no changing the one hundred and fifty year old man.  
  
_'Do I want to hear the truth if that's what I'll get?'_ Harry questioned himself. _'Bloody-Hell.'_  
  
Harry cut off Albus before he could answer Harry's question and begin his own line of questioning, "Were you there when I fought for the Philosopher's Stone?"  
  
Albus closed his mouth and leaned back in his chair, tenting his fingers once more and turned stoic.  
  
"I thought so," Harry said out-loud. "How did Crouch Jr. fool you?"  
  
There was no movement from Albus to answer or even make a gesture.  
  
"You told me once that you were watching me more closely than I thought, how? Wards? These..." Harry removed several marble sized surveillance orbs and rolled them across the table towards a stony looking Albus Dumbledore, who made no move to keep the items from rolling off the table. "What about my bank accounts, what possible reason could you have for monitoring them?"  
  
Nothing came from Albus Dumbledore. Then man just continued to stare at Harry, listening to his questions but not answering.  
  
"Say something; say anything that doesn't involve this all being about me, and my protection. You said that I'm not the only one with a prophecy, what's yours? What role do you play in all of this? What right do you have to keep anything that concerns me at all from me?"  
  
Harry did not know that while Albus had been listening he had been rebuilding his own occlumency shield, reinforcing it for a possible attack from Harry. He had assumed Harry would once again break into his mind out of frustration and during this process his concentration had been elsewhere; only hearing the questions and not wanting to answer them when he was sure that his acquiescent shield would detect and hold Harry's possible assault until his full attention could be diverted.  
  
"Harry, the answers you want... the answers I have..." Albus sighed deeply thinking this was his last chance to bring Harry back. "... you do not want to hear. You have seen one choice, one choice among many that I have had to make. Had to make, and had to live with knowing that I did that to someone. It is the coming of fate Harry, I have learned to cope with the knowledge, not accept it. I have never accepted my fate as you are thinking that you are never going to accept yours..."  
  
Full of rage and hate now, Harry cut him off, "You're wrong. You may have not accepted your fate, whatever the hell it is, but I've accepted mine. I will kill Tom Morvolo Riddle Jr."  
  
There was a single tear that streaked down the left side of Albus' face when Harry told him he had accepted his fate. Told him that he was going to kill another living being. This was what he had been trying to prevent for the last half decade, trying to keep from happening until Harry was a fully grown wizard and completely capable of handling what would happen; but there was no stopping it. Fate had come and now they each had a meeting with destiny.  
  
"Are you going to answer my questions?"  
  
"Will you answer mine?"  
  
"I'll tell you no lies."  
  
"We will see Harry. Your wand, why was there no owl? What have you done to avoid ministry detection and mine as well?"  
  
Both leaned back in their chairs and each with a glass of wine in their right hand, Harry answered, "I'm emancipated, you know that, you should also be aware, being the Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot that I am now allowed the rights of a legal adult in the wizarding world."  
  
"I see."  
  
_'How did he miss that? Didn't he write a few by-laws for that branch of the law as well?'_ Harry asked himself.  
  
"The answers to your first two questions are yes, and I can not say," Albus said.  
  
"Why were you there? Why didn't you step in?" Harry asked.  
  
"It makes no difference now Harry."  
  
"It makes a difference to me."  
  
"I was there, so that should you have lost, which I was sure you would not, I would be able to step in."  
  
Harry registered the answered and let it soak in just as quickly as Albus had spoke and then asked, "You can not say?"  
  
"I can not say," Albus repeated. "Harry, have you performed any more magic outside of the ministry's regulation?"  
  
"Portkey's," Harry offered testing Albus' reaction.  
  
"Then I have sufficient grounds to have you arrested and taken before the Wizengamot for trial of your crimes against the Ministry of Magic's statute for Portkey Regulation. There you will be sentenced by me to service at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Albus stated.  
  
If Harry had not been holding his emotions and expressions in check his mouth would have dropped to the floor.  
  
Instead of looking incredulous Harry said challegingly, "You can try."  
  
Harry knew that he was no match for Albus. The only chance he had to get away was to disapparate or portkey back to the manor now; he could not fight Albus and win.  
  
"Harry, I can," Albus said steeling himself for the possible confrontation.  
  
"I've already countered your disapparation jinx Albus, there's nothing keeping me here, save our fast dying conversation."  
  
"Do you think that is all that I have cast?" Albus challenged sadly, regretting that it had come to this.  
  
"No," Harry said, sure that he had also countered a tracking charm, the pending _'immobilus'_ that was waiting for his first move to initiate itself along with the pending stunning charm. "Albus, is this how we are to continue? The food isn't even here yet."  
  
Albus placed his hands on the arms of the chair he was sitting in and leveled his gaze towards Harry. He knew there was no way that he was going to be able to bring Harry in easily, the boy would fight and he would lose- but would the fight be worth it?  
  
"What do we discuss now Harry?" Albus asked, content to let Harry steer the conversation back to neutral waters for a time.

_'The only thing left to discuss,'_ Harry thought.

"The coming term."  
  
"What would you like to discuss about it. I am assuming that you will be returning. Am I correct?"  
  
Harry answered, "I will be returning yes, but about the coming term... I must ask for you help."  
  
The last six words had practically been dragged from Harry's mouth.  
  
Albus gave into the smile of triumph and let a small smirk appear on his face.  
  
"Don't look so pleased with yourself," Harry stated. "You know full well that you are the only one that can teach me what is needed. You knew that I would come to you no matter the circumstances. I could run away from all of this, leave it all behind couldn't I; but I'd end up right back in your office sooner or later."  
  
"Yes Harry, I know. You would, of course. There is no escaping this, and I will be teaching you as my apprentice."  
  
Harry was not about to become Albus Dumbledore's underling, "No, I refuse. Formal apprenticeship binds me to you, and informal is almost as bad. I am nothing more than a student to you, not an apprentice."  
  
Albus did not think that Harry would have had the foresight to research apprenticeships, but he studies must have gone beyond the normal texts.  
  
Reluctantly Albus nodded and spoke, "Very well."  
  
"How do you propose I schedule this term?" Harry asked.  
  
"I would suggest that you schedule as any other student with your O.W.L. scores. Congratulations by way," Albus said.  
  
"Do not patronize me," Harry growled, much in the same manner that Remus did.  
  
The server chose that moment to step through the privacy shield carrying two plates; one with a tuna steak that looked to be half raw- Harry would never understand modern European food, and for Albus a plate with three stuffed lobster tails and an assortment of steamed vegetables off to the left. Taylor noted that the wine bottle was still half full and their glasses still had a little left in them and left after making sure that both his customers had everything they needed.  
  
Harry instantly pushed the plate away from him as soon as the server exited the shield, and was closely followed by Albus mimicking his own actions.  
  
They both eyed each other for a moment before they stated in unison, "I don't care for seafood."  
  
Inside the privacy shield was a strange site to behold. One young man, whose contempt for Albus Dumbledore was only growing, was trying desperately to laugh and what he knew to be a funny coincidence. The knowledge that he had gained this evening however, was crushing his spirits though. The young man's counterpart for the evening was clutching his arms to his ribs and laughing even louder at the remark they had both made in unison over the food that neither would touch; he had obviously dealt with this type of situation before.  
  
_'He's gone mad,'_ Harry thought.  
  
"Do you have both of our scores with you?" Harry asked.  
  
"Of course," Albus said reaching into his jacket pocket and retrieving two cream coloured envelopes.  
  
Harry pocketed both of them once he had performed a scan to find any possible tracking charms.  
  
"Are you not interested in your score?" Albus inquired before taking another sip of his drink.  
  
"It makes no difference now," Harry said. "Hermione is the one who is interested to know how she performed."  
  
_'Performed... right. Hermione sees exams as an art... that's it, think of Hermione and you can get through this,'_ Harry told himself.  
  
"Harry?" Albus asked seeing the boy go slightly despondent.  
  
"What?"  
  
"How was that you entered my mind?"  
  
"That is something that is best left for explaining later."  
  
"Among a great many things as well, my dear boy?"  
  
_'My dear boy...,'_ Albus thought.  
  
"Terms of endearment will get you nowhere. You'll know soon enough."  
  
"Quite right, you will have to explain yourself before we can begin your private lessons," Albus said almost cheekily.  
  
"Yes," Harry replied scathingly.  
  
_'The boy could give Severus a run for his galleons,'_ Albus thought in regards to Harry's tone.  
  
"I would prefer that you did not compare me with that piece of filth," Harry spoke inside of Albus mind.  
  
"Harry, how is that you have accomplished this?" Albus asked Harry within Harry's own mind.  
  
"How is that you have accomplished this?" Harry asked Albus back in the old mans mind.  
  
"Do you think you are the only one with this ability?"  
  
"No," Harry said outright, finally finding where Albus was hiding in his mind and evicting him.  
  
Albus acted the same, only he subtly removed Harry from his mind this time.  
  
"Much to explain," Albus said leaning forward.  
  
"Yes," Harry said trying to hide his exhaustion.  
  
'There's no way I can apparate out of here now,' Harry thought.  
  
Harry was not prepared for the amount of effort it would take for him to push Albus from his mind. He should have known this would be more difficult... he should have known.  
  
_'Strong, not yet strong enough though,'_ Albus assessed of Harry.  
  
"What are your plans for the rest of the _'holiday'_ Harry?" Albus asked crossing his legs and tenting his fingers once more.  
  
_'How can he be like this? After everything I've found out? After everything he's done?'_ Harry asked no one.  
  
In a monotonous tone Harry answered, "I'll continue on as I have for the previous month and a half."  
  
"Very well. Am I correct in guessing Remus will be staying to help you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good. I must also say that it would be appreciated if you were not to allow yourself to be seen in public again Harry. If a photographer from the Daily Prophet was able to track you down..."  
  
"You know I set that up, don't play dense; it doesn't suit you."  
  
Albus chuckled, "It would still be appreciated."  
  
"You are not my guardian, and as we are not in session at Hogwarts your title of Headmaster bears no meaning or privilege concerning my personal affairs."  
  
"You are forgetting Harry that I can have you arrested and confined to Hogwarts."  
  
"I told you. You can try."  
  
"Harry my boy, please, look around you, tell me what you see," Albus asked, not looking anywhere but Harry's eyes.  
  
"I don't need to look around me to know that there are several order members here, all Aurors on duty as well."  
  
"Then you would not be so foolish to believe that you can leave as easily as you came."  
  
"No I would not, but you would not be so foolish as to believe I would go without a fight."  
  
"No I would not, but you would lose Harry. Forgive me when I say that the fate of the world is too much to leave up to you right now, and you will not receive the proper guidance from Remus alone."  
  
"Proper guidance I'm assuming is your tutelage and advice?"  
  
"Harry, please come with me and tell me where Hermione is so that I can retrieve her as well."  
  
"Tell me, how is that if you are unable to find where I have been, that death eaters will be so cunning as to figure out my location? How is that you think you know best?"  
  
"You are very young Harry, perhaps in time you will understand."  
  
"Understand what? That playing with people's lives is a necessary evil? That we're all pawns destined to be positioned by you? Is that you prophecy Albus? Are you catalyst to all of this? Tell me; give me the chance to understand before something irreparable happens again."  
  
_'Irreparable Harry? How unnecessary for you to speak of your godfather in such a manner.'_  
  
"In time, Harry."  
  
"To hell with time," Harry spoke heatedly for the first time this evening.  
  
"Alas, time will not go, it will only come."  
  
"More lies, half-truths and plots-within-plots?"  
  
Albus just nodded his head.  
  
Harry reached inside of his jacket pocket again, retrieving his money case and removing one fifty pound note. He cast the money onto the table unceremoniously.  
  
"I'll come to Grimmauld Place the day after tomorrow, sometime in the afternoon. There is someone there that I need to talk to. You are more than welcome to be waiting for me in my own home to further this... attempt to _'bring me in'_.  
  
"I'm somehow convinced the members and the Weasley's that are probably residing in my home at Grimmauld Place, will try to hex OR physically attack me- which would not be a good idea; when I arrive there the day after tomorrow sometime in the afternoon. No doubt because of something you have told them. Did you tell them what really happened when I left? No, of course not, that would have been counterproductive."  
  
"Then I have your confidence of a sorts," Albus said with a small smile.  
  
"Do not presume that you have anything of mine Albus, save for my word that I will kill Riddle. We both need each other, however reluctant that need is."  
  
This is political, pure and simple; so I've developed an open door policy when it comes to blame and we all share our own parts," Harry somberly said.  
  
"Harry?" Albus asked.  
  
This night had not turned out anything like Harry had anticipated. All he wanted to do at the moment was return the manor and finish the bottle of wine on the table in quiet contemplation of how royally fucked up his life was. How royally fucked up the world was.  
  
"How is Ms. Granger?"  
  
"How is Ms. Granger? You have to be kidding?"  
  
"I assure you that I am not kidding you, Harry."  
  
"She is fine."  
  
"That is all?"  
  
"That is all you need to know. You're lucky that she does not share my sentiments when it comes to you."  
  
"Very lucky, I would say," Albus said gesturing with his hand towards Harry's hostile demeanor.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Harry, tell me how we get back to where we were? I am afraid nothing can be accomplished this way."  
  
"We move forward, or we stand still. There is no going back anymore," Harry stated.  
  
He could not keep the facade up any longer and Albus Dumbledore dropped his head into  
  
waiting hands, shaking it back and worth.  
  
"I'll be leaving now; you can pay for your own half."  
  
Before Harry could push back the chair and stand Albus spoke, "Harry..."  
  
Harry stopped him as he stood, "Are you going to try and stop me?"  
  
"You must come with me; we do not have time for this." Albus said looking up from his hand and returning to his powerful stature position.  
  
"I mustn't do anything you say."  
  
"Potter," a silky voice spoke from behind him.  
  
"Snape," Harry answered. He turning to face him, but kept an eye on Dumbledore.  
  
Harry didn't even give the man a chance to make a sneering comment. He buried his fist into the potion masters stomach bringing the man to his knees, cradling his gut.  
  
"Ex... expulsion," Snape got out in-between trying to regain his breath.  
  
Harry crouched down next to Severus, after taking a longing glance at an unmoving and stoic appearing Albus Dumbledore, "We are not at Hogwarts...," Harry paused and leaned in close to Severus' ear, "... death eater."  
  
He then stood up and gave a nod to Albus before reaching for his portkey and avoiding a wild strike from his potions professor.  
  
Harry grasped the small card and said, "Grimoire."  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
"Harry..." Albus started.  
  
"Anti-apparation, privacy shield, and portkey ward Albus?" Harry asked.  
  
Albus rose from his seat and started to make his way over to a kneeling Severus Snape who was still trying to reign in his breathing, and Harry who remained unmoving.  
  
Harry reached out with his minimal sensory skills and found the edge of the ward that Albus had set up; three feet to his left.  
  
"Too many mistakes for the greater good Albus," Harry said and then took four steps to the left.  
  
Albus' eyes grew wide for a moment in dawning realization that Harry had been able to find the edge of the ward.  
  
"Good-bye Albus, Grimoire," Harry said, convinced that he was saying good-bye for the last time to the man that he had once looked to in order to make everything right.  
  
Harry disappeared, and the four order members gathered around Albus; attempting to help Severus to stand on his own two feet- but being pushed away while he righted himself.  
  
"You are very lucky Severus, that Harry did not hit you any harder," Albus stated, not turning to look at the man.  
  
_'Harder?'_ Snape wondered, keeping himself from bringing his hands back to his abdomen.  
  
"I am sure that he did not detect the beacon I placed on him," Albus all but sighed, "Alastor, Severus, Nymphadora, if you would be so kind."  
  
Alastor removed the tracking device from his robe in order for them to locate Harry's position from the beacon. Less than a minute after Alastor had removed the device, he was placing it back in his robe and disapparating with Severus and Nymphadora.  
  
"Kingsley, if you would please accompany me, we have a meeting to prepare for."  
  
"Of course Albus," Kingsley nodded. "Were you serious about arresting him?"  
  
Albus looked up in surprise before they disapparated to Grimmauld Place.  
  
Kingsley almost laughed, "I do not know if I should be insulted by your look Albus. I'm an Auror, this is what I do, and you know that. To your credit though, it took me a good while to break through the privacy shield."  
  
Albus smiled in return to Kingsley Shacklebolt's good natured tone, and then apparated to number 12 Grimmauld place; followed shortly by Kingsley himself.  
  
Harry felt a sudden shove just as he was sure he was about to arrive back in his bedroom at the manor. When he reappeared he found himself standing at the end of a wooden dock on a lake he was unfamiliar with.  
  
_'Damn it Albus,'_ Harry said to himself almost in a joking matter. There was nothing left to do but laugh. _'This might be how Sirius felt when they carted him off to Azkaban.'  
_  
Harry knew that he didn't have the time to banter with himself at the moment. The tracking charm he had missed, causing him to bounce here; was sure to bring the order members onto him shortly. He had to find it and counter the spell.  
  
Too weak from having had to force Albus from his mind, Harry hoped that a small sensory scan would be able to find the spell.  
  
He had only started to the trance like state of searching for the spell when he felt the presence of a pulsating spell in his outside right jacket pocket.  
  
Harry quickly brought himself out of the scan and reached into his pocket removing the coin shaped and sized device. The thing was coloured a bright red and had no outwardly appearance of being anything more than a round piece of metal. On the bottom side, or the top, Harry wasn't sure was the engraving _'W.W.W.'  
_  
Harry started laughing again. Fred and George had made this, had made these for Dumbledore. His own investment in the business was being used against him now. He would have stayed there, laughing at the irony of his life; but he had to get rid of the beacon and be gone before the order members arrived. The chances that he would make it through a battle now, if there were to be one were entirely too small for Harry's liking.  
  
He stood at the edge of the dock, and tossed the device into the water. Harry watched it sink for a moment, and then grabbed the portkey once more and spoke the incantation to return to the manor.  
  
Alastor, Severus and Nymphadora all arrived just as they saw Harry casting the beacon that had been placed on him, out into the lake.  
  
Alastor was the first to act and as soon as he landed had his wand out and cast a powerful 'stupefy'.  
  
The ex-Auror's attempt to subdue Harry was in vain when the spell shot straight through the space that Harry had only seconds before possessed.  
  
The three order members each shared their independents opinions of the situations on their faces with one another before apparating back to number 12 Grimmauld Place and report to Albus what had occurred.  
  
Once Albus had been informed of the order members failure to find and retrieve Harry he found himself alone in a room upstairs at headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix thinking to himself.  
  
_'That boy has many things to explain about himself... that is quite certain,'_ Albus spoke to himself and the west wall of the bedroom.  
  
Harry appeared back in his bedroom and saw that it was now only slightly past eight in the evening, Hermione would still be in the library. So he took a drink straight from the bottle of wine he still held in his hand and set off for the library. He found Hermione hidden behind a tower of books. His appearance had again gone unnoticed by Hermione, until the clicking his shoes made when he walked across the hardwood floor alerted her of his presence; and she up and running at his full speed toward him when she knew he was back.  
  
Hermione was about to tackle him and find the O.W.L. results on his person for herself that Harry had told her he would bring back; but stopped when she saw that Harry was holding an open bottle of wine and wearing a slightly dopy grin.  
  
"Why are you so happy, Harry? Did you drink half of that bottle all by yourself?" Hermione asked a little shocked that Harry might be drunk.  
  
"I have no idea what I am, but I am not happy," Harry said taking another drink. Nope, just glad to have had a conversation with our headmaster where I received more information from him than he did from me, as it's usually the other was around; and proud of myself not only for remembering the name of the first wine that you chose for us, but that I remembered our O.W.L. results no less..." Harry was still in the middle when Hermione started jumping up and down in glee and holding out her right hand expectantly.  
  
_'Look at her, she's so happy now. She doesn't need to know... I don't want her pity. Would she even understand it? Of course she would understand it... no, she doesn't need to know,'_ Harry argued inside his head.  
  
The loose brown knitted sweater she was wearing had slid down over her left shoulder baring her flesh and momentarily distracting a slightly inebriated Harry.  
  
Hermione could not hide her grin from seeing that Harry was a little drunk, "Harry are you sure that you aren't a little drunk?"  
  
"I'm more than positive that I am. I don't think I've ever felt this light before, and you're positively glowing... but you always glow. But now you're really glowing, and you're smile seems huge right now!" Harry got out before the dopy grin on his face became even wider and he took another swig from the wine bottle.  
  
Hermione thinking that maybe she should take the bottle away from Harry, but on the other hand decided to see what a drunk Harry would let slip.  
  
"Harry do you think I could have my results? And yours before you throw them in the fire; or spontaneously combust them with your eyes?" Hermione slowly asked.  
  
"Of course, but you know I can't set things on fire with my eyes. I'm not superman, you know," Harry replied sheepishly.  
  
"You told me that you weren't allowed to watch the box growing up? How do you know about superman?" she asked while taking the manila envelopes that he was slowly removing from his inside jacket before they were ever in full view.  
  
Hermione had taken the letters from Harry's hand and the quick movement suddenly left him a little dizzy, "I need to sit down," and then abruptly fell onto his bum in the middle of the library.  
  
Hermione giggled and grabbed her wand to levitate Harry over to the sofa in front of the library's fireplace. She then stripped him of his jacket and shoes and socks, but left the rest.  
  
The seal to her letter was broken in a flash and she was reading down the list of O's that Harry had predicted she would receive; until her eyes landed on the E she received in Astronomy's practical and nearly fell into a tyrannical raid. Hermione stormed over to where Harry was and stole the bottle as he was raising it to his lips, "HEY!"  
  
"Oh, you've had enough! I expected them to curve the Astronomy practical with what happened to McGonagall! This is outlandish, and preposterous!" Hermione shouted and then took another swig from the bottle.  
  
Hermione still hadn't been down to supper, although Remus offered to keep her company after he assured her that her 'Wolfsbane' was better than Severus'; since she didn't use any additives that forced it taste unnaturally awful. She was a lightweight when it came to drinking wine and her parents made sure to keep an eye on her when they did allow her to drink. Now however she had no food in her system or someone to make sure didn't drink too much, Harry didn't know to watch her. Hermione was sure to be drunk in less than ten minutes at the rate she was going through the half bottle of wine Harry had brought home.  
  
"Hermione, calm down, listen," Harry was slurring a little bit, but still coherent enough to be understood. "If the practical hadn't been interrupted you would have received the only O that you missed it seems, so no worries dove."  
  
Hermione wasn't sure if he meant to end with dove or love, but was still upset at not having made perfect results in all of her examinations. There was nothing she could do about it except for accept what Harry said just now. So she did the only thing she could think of at that moment besides writing a letter and took two gulps of wine from the bottle that only had about quarter of its once full contents left. Sixteen O's would have been nice but she would settle... for now. There would be a carefully worded letter sent to the board of examiners explaining the situation. The letter in so many words demanding that allowances be made or a retesting of the practical offered- without distraction. Then her eyes turned to Harry's letter that was back on the desk where she had set them before storming over and taking the bottle from Harry. She wondered how he had done. He obviously could care less now, with the amount of knowledge and abilities he currently possessed. Seeing where he started though, could not hurt.  
  
A slim finger broke the seal of Harry letter and pulled out the letter with Harry's results and Hermione's eyes traveled the letter in bewilderment. An O with a commendation in Defense against the Dark Arts practical that counted for two O's, an O in the theory of D.A.D.A.; an O in Care of Magical Creatures practical and theory, an E in the Potions practical and an A for the theory, an E in the Divination practical that was just as surprising as the E in the potions practical and another E in the theory as well, an O in each the practical and theory of Herbology, an A in History of Magic, an E in the Astronomy practical and theory, an O in charms practical and E in theory, and to top it off an O and E for Transfiguration's practical and theory. Harry had managed all those O.W.L.'s with everything that had been going on last year and falling asleep during the History of Magic exam no less.  
  
_'Cheers,'_ she thought for both Harry and Hermione who were both well beyond their O.W.L.'s now.  
  
Hermione was only a little ahead, maybe reaching a little into her seventh year studies. But Harry, to Hermione's surprise didn't even need to go back to Hogwarts and was wondering what he was going to do this year. She would not let Harry just go to his classes designed for average sixth or seventh years. She didn't even know what she was going to do now. The only thing on her mind right now was a very content looking Harry lying on the sofa in front of the fire- he only ever looked content when he was sleeping now; thankfully without visions, and the bottle of wine in her hand that was relaxing her immensely.  
  
Right now the wine was quickly affecting her thinking and she could think of nothing better than lying with Harry next to the fire and falling asleep. So that's exactly what she did. Hermione removed the overly large brown sweater to reveal that she was wearing a tight white shirt that was held up by a strap on the alternate shoulder that was bare.  
  
Hermione walked back to where Harry was and drank the last of what was in the bottle, and then laid down on top of Harry finding that it wasn't as uncomfortable and she thought it would be.  
  
Just as Harry had done moments after Hermione floated him over to the sofa, Hermione fell asleep with her face turned towards the fire; her head resting comfortably in the middle of Harry's chest with her arms wrapped around his body.

* * *

As Harry and Hermione both enjoyed their sleep, Albus Dumbledore stood at the end of the dock on Lake Vinuela staring out at the hills tracking the residual magic of Harry's portkey.

* * *

**Authors Note:** Dont string me up, please! ;)

**Cory3:** Thanks dude.

**Csferosha:** I hope you enjoyed _this particular_ confrontation between Harry and Albus.

**ActionMaster:** No pressure, yeah right, this is all a walk in the park... well it is, dont look at me like that ;).

**Kateydidnt:** First of all I'm a huge fan of your current work "Betrayed" awesome awesome stuff. Second thank-you for your reviews, I got fed up with everyone knocking Blatak and the vault number, yeah i knew, I knew all along, but everyone failed to see the humour there and its now canonned up. Also, thank-you for the catching the sneak-o-scope line, that too has been fixed somewhat- it'll have to wait for a proper fix later though. Third, Ron's been just as good a friend as Hermione? Uhm, no, but Rons coming back into the fold so just hold out AND NO SHIPS HAVE SAILED. Again thank-you for reviewing- sorry for the cheek and going "sparse" lol. The drinking age is eighteen by the way and the way that Harry was looking was one of the those upper class moments where the server didnt think to question him.

**NateP:** Wait for it, wait for it...

**Skeeter007:** Thanks again.

**Ne-oX1:** It's already finished, I'm just milking this for reviews now.

**Not A Muggle:** I know, the suspense right, I apologize for the wait.

**Jack-A-Roe:** Thank-you.

**BlueAdonis:** You know C-Diddy, the air guitar champion of the world thats going to be defending his title in Amsterdam this month? Thanks again.

**Be0t:** I'm looking into yahoo-groups.

**Kathleen LaCorneille:** Ah, my favourite reviewer. I hope you found this to be satisfying, and I will definitely work on the Father/Son interactions in hopes that James true pride shows through in words and not just expressions. Also, please do not hold your breath, I would not want you to pass out and leave me without another morning of waking up to an incredibly inspiring review. Thank-you again.

**Fission25:** Holy Shit! I am completely involved in your fic over at The Dark Arts, I can't believe you're over here reviewing for me, Thank-you. Now please go back to your fic and update! This will not be a super Harry fic, and I hope that this chapter offered some solid evidence for that claim and a bit of foreshadowing as well.

**Shawn Pickett:** No, Thank-you!

**Athenakitty:** I never said there was anything wrong about being inquisitive. In actuality I wanted to type out the whole inquisition song from Mel Brooks: History of the World Part 1 just because of you- although that would have led to another disclaimer and a very long response to a review I think ;). To your chapter 11 review, the first question- yes and no, the second question- yes although supplies only they have their books, third- oh everyone'll try to hang me from the gallows Im sure, fourth- he knows, he knows.

**LIMAR:** I hope this works for you.

**Jbfritz:** Thanks, I will.

**Jena Rink:** Er... thank-you :bows down: IM NOT WORTHY, IM NOT WORTHY! I hope you'll dig it.


	13. Number 12 Grimmauld Place

**Grimmauld Place:**

Harry, having been woken by Remus was taking in his foreign surroundings.

'_Why aren't I in my room...? OW!' Harry asked himself and then brought his hand to his forehead in an attempt to stall the throbbing of his brain. 'Okay, don't think, OW! DAMNIT!'_

Remus noticed Harry's... sudden dawning of recollection and whispered gleefully so as not to wake Hermione, "You are so in for it now cub. Hurry up and get changed so we can get started, and if I were you I'd drink this."

Remus placed a small vial of a clear liquid into his hand and winked at him. Harry was starting to fear that he had actually been the one to bring the _'beast'_ out in Remus.

Harry wondered, _'in for it?'_

The realization that _'in for it'_ had been a subtle way to describe the coming hell he was about to submit himself to, was almost enough to make Harry want to apparate back to his bedroom and barricade the door and the room itself with as many anti-entrance spells as possible.

Trying desperately not to think, or even blink, Harry popped the cork off of the crystal vial with his thumb and tossed the potion towards the back of his throat in an effort to avoid any unappealing taste.

Within seconds of swallowing, Harry started to feel the effects of the potion Remus had given him. The small feeling of warmth was radiating from his stomach in all directions and it was only half a minute after he had ingested the potion he had been given- that the effects reached his head and ceased the constant throbbing.

He summoned his wand to him from his suit jacket and carefully levitated Hermione off of him while he slipped out from under her, and then lowered her back to the couch.

Harry reappeared after resituating Hermione, back in his wardrobe with an audible crack.

'_I am never doing that again, NEVER!' _Harry swore to himself and rubbing his forehead softly.

Harry changed into a pair of shorts and trainers and apparated outside of the training room in less than three minutes. He had no idea what time it was or how late he really was because of the events of last night.

'_Why does my bum hurt?'_ Harry asked himself as he took a couple steps toward the training room door.

Just as Harry had passed the threshold and entered the training room, he was assaulted. But not in the way that he was expecting to be attacked when he recoiled from the loud voice and raised his daito is a defensive manner.

"WELL!? DID YOU SHAG HER!? DID YOU FINALLY DO IT!?" the projected Sirius loudly asked from across the room.

Harry lowered his daito slightly and changed his expression from apprehensive determination to wary confusion.

"Huh?" Harry asked.

The projected James was trying desperately not to break into raucous laughter when he knew that Harry had disobeyed house rules. James himself, having broken that particular rule several times was not particularly keen on enforcing it.

"You didn't, did you? Damn it all Harry, that girl has been sleeping in your bed for the past two and half weeks. What're you waiting for? Hermione wrapped in a bright pink bow begging you take her?" Sirius demanded with a smile.

"It's not that I haven't thought about it... I mean, the nights where I don't pass out the moment my head lands on the pillow," Harry said, now lowering his sword.

"I KNEW IT!" Sirius yelled out triumphantly while Remus and James just shook their heads in mock disapproval.

"She's like his sister Sirius," Remus said from a seat next to the fireplace.

"Remus, she's closer than a sister to me. Hermione's my confidant. And do not go putting the thought into my head that I may one day have feelings for my _'sister'_," Harry said pointedly, prepared to raise his sword at any moment.

"Oh way to try and botch it up Moony, you wanker," Sirius said throwing the book he had in his hands at Remus.

Remus ducked, "What are you going on about now?"

"Leave it you two. We have... business to take care of," James said leering at Harry.

Harry instantly recoiled from the leer and raised his daito, instantly placing a rapier in his fathers grasp without having to think about it and raising his own sword in defense.

James and Remus shared a look.

"Relax for now son. You have your circuit to complete yet," James said, almost bowing.

Harry did not miss the feral grin that the projection of his father was wearing. Banishing his blade back to the rack on the side of the room, Harry eyed Remus, who nodded in return; and the room instantly changed to their circuit training equipment.

The morning circuit was normal enough, oddly. The run was normal, although Harry was paranoid the entire time that something random would come out of nowhere to attack him, and the thoughts of what he had learned last night constantly plagued his mind; forcing him to try and deal with them. Harry chose to lock those thoughts away for the time being by using every ounce of his occlumens training to secure the knowledge so deep in his mind; it would be a feat for him to locate them later. A few tears had actually forced themselves from Harry, but thankfully the sweat masked anything that Remus might have seen. Although Remus seemed to be reverting back to his post Hogwart's with the Marauder's days with every passing day at the manor; and secretly, Harry was grateful for this distraction.

After his run Harry apparated to his bathroom, this time silent, and tried to indulge himself in a lengthy shower. The only interruption to his brief reprieve from his life's tension was that of Hermione still passed out in the library.

Harry exited the shower and dried himself off in a hurry, dressed quickly in a pair of faded loose blue jeans and t-shirt and apparated to the library.

Hermione was still sleeping on the sofa in the library right where he had left her when Harry found her. Harry noted that she was sleeping soundly with neither him nor her wand.

'_Let her sleep,'_ Harry thought.

Leaving Hermione where she was for the time being, Harry walked over to his personal table and started sorting through books, trying to find the one has was looking for

'_We must be complete lightweights to let a half bottle do this to us,'_ Harry thought when he looked over the stack of books in front of him and saw Hermione sprawled over the sofa.

Harry found his note-book and started to go through his research with wandless magic; eager to test out the advancements that his recent discovery would allow him to accomplish.

* * *

Two hours later, with having only made a slight advancement with wandless magic, Harry marked down a few notes and pointers to himself for possible future references and idea's as to why he had stalled. He thought that perhaps what he had already accomplished had been the extent to what he could take himself to at the time. But for some odd reason Harry had the notion that with this was just one aspect of magic he had possibly exhausted.

He walked back over to a still sleeping Hermione and gently nudged her shoulder. She responded with a noncommittal grunt and turned her face to the left away from Harry in an effort to go back to sleep.

Harry just smiled and gave her what she wanted by leaving the library.

His dread of punishment from earlier this morning, although abated while he had been in the library; did not lead him astray when he returned to the training room.

Harry did not attend his scheduled session with Silus that afternoon. Remus had been the one to fill the portrait in on some of the _'highlights'_ of what he and James had done to Harry for disappointing behavior. The portrait merely nodded when Remus told him of the great lengths that Harry had gone to defend himself, but in the end had been overpowered and summarily beaten into submission with a final blow from Remus.

Remus had carried Harry's limp body, which felt like a metric ton being reinforced by magic and dumped him onto the top of one of the metallic stations in the potions lab. The scene was grotesquely reminiscent of a mortician's parlor, even if Harry was breathing. Harry had then been '_enervated_' once again and forced swallow his own concoctions; that only lessened the pain and did not take it completely from him.

He mumbled an incoherent thanks to Remus for his help and stumbled back to his room, where he made it all but three steps past the doors before collapsing again; only this time onto the hardwood floor. Thankfully the manor recognized the master of the home's plight and activated cushioning charms expecting his collision with the floor. The result was Harry falling full force onto what felt like a muggle wrestling matt.

* * *

Hermione woke later that evening in the library thankfully without any shred of a hang-over. She blessed Merlin for his mercy when she saw the empty bottle of wine on the floor next to the sofa.

The grandfather clock on the opposite side of the room chimed eight in the evening.

Having not eaten anything the previous day when she was distracted by her personal studies, and then Harry coming in half drunk with a bottle of wine; Hermione's stomach was growling loudly in protest to her neglect. She was being forced by her own hunger to find the kitchen and Tory since she was of no use in the kitchen herself regretfully. She removed her wand from the holster on her right calf and stuck it into the waist of her jeans before leaving the library.

Hermione stumbled into the kitchen and quietly asked for Tory. She noticed that Harry and Remus weren't already here like they usually were when she came in at this time.

"Tory?" Hermione asked quietly.

POP!

"Yes Miss Hermione?" Tory asked.

"Can I have something to eat please? If it's not too much of a bother?" Hermione asked shyly.

Hermione still wasn't used to ordering from a house-elf; even one that was free; who would not accept wages but happily served. There had been several interesting debates between Hermione and Tory that she was grateful for the insight. She learned much about house-elves and their attitude towards servitude, which had shed light on Hermione's crusade to be almost completely pointless. Hermione still held out for hope that she'd be able to find a plausible reason for freeing the house-elves, but with what Tory told Hermione point blank without any reservation; was that there was no use fighting it. House-elves lived to work and liked it so long as they had a kind master or one who had freed them and kept them on; those who did not have either of those should be the ones that Hermione should help.

Tory walked towards the stove and conjured a stool for her stand on before she said, "It is not a problem miss. Is there something special you would like this evening?"

"No, whatever you make will be great I'm sure," Hermione yawned out and then took a seat on a stool seated around the kitchen island.

Summoning various ingredients from the refrigerator Tory said in a very pleased to be helping voice, "Your food will be ready in a few moments miss."

Fifteen minutes later Hermione was finishing her plate of sausages and fried potato's. She then used her wand to send the dishes to the sink in an effort to be helpful and said thank-you to Tory, wherever she had disappeared to after she had served Hermione. Then she set off to find Harry, who she thought might still be in a training session with Silus.

When Hermione turned the corner to '_their_' bedroom, as it was where they both slept. She gasped at the sight of a passed out Harry sprawled on the hardwood floor of the bedroom with his arms at his side and face turned on its side that had not landed nose first.

Hermione crouched down beside him and tried to wake him. Even slapping his face didn't work. She tried dragging his seemingly limp body to the bed where he could at least sleep comfortably, but found his body was heavier than it appeared and couldn't for the life of her drag him an inch from where he had fallen. So she started doing what she did best and thought it out. After just a second her logic kicked in and she pointed her wand at him saying, "_enervate, mobilicorpus_."

A very tired and even sorer Harry forced himself onto his back when he was woken by yet another '_enervate_'. He had been dreaming that he was still in the training room being punished, dreading opening his eyes when he realized that the energy in his body was not his but the residual magic left from the spell designed to wake/revive someone. The enervation spell was definitely not the best in design for bringing a person back from the brink of death; as Harry considered himself at the moment.

He swore to himself for the second time today to never do something insanely stupid, _'I'll never be **found** out of this bedchamber again past curfew..., drunk or not!'_

Harry had always enjoyed being beat and learning something while doing so, or from the experience. That to him was a way of _'learning by your mistakes'_ training. Today though, there was nothing to learn except not to disobey the rules while he was here training.

Harry slowly opened his right eye, desperately hoping he wasn't where he thought he was; but no blows landed, and no one was shouting at him to get back up so they could knock him back down again. What he saw when he opened both of his eyes was the greatest sight he considered to have ever been seen. Hermione was standing over him looking both worried and excited that Harry seemed to be on guard after having been woken up by Hermione. The excited part he couldn't imagine why, but the worried he understood- the bruises were probably starting only now to disappear and the cuts and curse marks were probably starting to scar without him having been able to use a salve or unction.

"I tried moving you to the bed as softly as possible," she said softly.

"Thanks," Harry groaned and mumbled, the dull ache in his jaw making it difficult to articulate properly.

Hermione stifled a laugh and sat down next to his chest then lifted his head to fix a pillow in order to support his neck.

Harry had already closed his eyes and passed out by the time Hermione had cupped his head in her hands.

'_If only he looked like that when he was conscious,'_ Hermione thought to herself when looking at a sleeping Harry.

Her fingers on the back of his neck had been the reason for Harry's boyish smile and now stress free countenance.

CRACK!

Hermione apparated out of Harry's bedroom knowing that the sound of her leaving wasn't going to affect Harry's sleep in the state he was in now.

'_What did he do to himself,'_ she asked herself walking through the halls looking for the training room he had mentioned.

* * *

Harry was shaken lightly from his sleep by a very nervous looking Tory near midnight. He nodded to Tory in an effort for her to understand that he would meet her outside the bedroom in just a moment. Gently sliding out from under Hermione, Harry left his bedroom to find out why he had been woken up by Tory.

Looking less nervous Tory spoke first when Harry closed the bedroom door behind him, "Sir, there is someone at the repulsion point."

Harry yawned, "Don't worry Tory; it's probably Albus trying to track my portkey's residual signal, nothing to be worried about. The signal fades somewhere over Lake Constance. Besides you know how many wards are on this place. Even if he was able to bypass the wards, the Fidelius he'd never be able to break, go back to bed Tory."

Harry turned to go back to his room when Tory stopped him by pulling on his tattered trouser leg, "He has been here before."

He stopped dead in his tracks, and then turned to face Tory with the single thought running through his head, _'shite.'_

"He's been here before, but was he ever given the location?" Harry asked now fully awake. It was amazing what a sudden endorphin shot to the system did for human awareness.

"I do not know. It is possible."

"Not likely though is it? Still... it's not worth the risk of allowing him to try. Why can't he just leave me be?"

"You are important to him," Tory responded to the rhetorical question.

"Don't remind me," Harry said heatedly.

Tory lowered her head thinking that she had said something to upset Harry.

"Sorry Tory, it's just... never mind. This isn't your fault. Thank you for waking me and letting me know."

Tory's head rose at the apology and gave a little bow to Harry, who then popped away

Harry apparated silently into a deck chair not more than fifteen feet behind Albus Dumbledore; who from all outward appearances looked like to be hugging himself tightly. In truth, however, Albus Dumbledore had been trying to piece together specific portkey signals and find their destination point; much the same as muggle triangulation.

Albus' chin rose from where he had rested it against his chest and sighed deeply at another failed attempt. Harry's portkey's definitely had a unique signal to them, and by traveling to the restaurant from the Daily Prophet's Photo, the restaurant where Albus and Harry had tried to share a meal and now here at the end of this dock; Albus was trying to pinpoint where they were directed. Much to his dismay each signal seemed to fade over a very different location than the previous, or next.

Harry only knew that Albus had failed, not that the failure had anything to do with his portkey's all being encoded with random fading points in direct correlation with using the _'fidelius'_ charm and his own programming spell skills. He wanted to grin at his ability to remain hidden, but this ability was not his doing and therefore not his to take credit for.

Harry sighed himself, but not loudly as to draw attention before he spoke, "You just don't give up, do you?"

Albus spun on his feet quicker than Harry would have thought the older man could have moved and waved his wand in a defensive maneuver before he saw Harry sitting in a deck chair with his legs crossed and no clothes on except for a pair of shredded trousers.

"Harry?" Albus asked trying to see in the dark.

"You know there's an excellent spell I've learned that enables you to see in the dark; I don't suppose you've heard of it?" Harry asked cheekily.

"Harry why are you here?"

'_Why am I here? You're the one looking for me,'_ Harry thought.

"I was told you knocked," Harry offered. He might as well try to throw Albus off by letting him think that he was getting somewhere.

"I see. Harry please come with me. We do not have time for this childishness," Albus said quickly.

"Childishness?" Harry asked indignantly.

Albus' eyes never left Harry's, "I do not know what you have been doing to yourself, or who exactly you have been training with besides Remus, but it must end now. The more time we have to prepare..."

Harry cut him off at the mention of having time to prepare, "and exactly how many years could I have been preparing for this before now?"

"For now, there is no reason for me to go with you. Why are you so reluctant to give me space Albus?"

"Harry, Voldemort will find you."

Harry had stood up and been almost nose to nose with Albus in the time it took Albus to blink.

"Then he will find me. But he will not find me where I am now, and neither will you," Harry said and then stealthily slipped into Albus conscious thoughts for a moment without being detected so he could see what progress had been made with tracking his portkey's.

The information that his portkey's had random fading points only served to further his confidence.

Albus was without words to express his surprise at how fast Harry had moved, and the confidence he possessed. Not arrogance he saw, but confidence.

"Harry I only wish to help you," Albus stated not backing up from Harry's close proximity.

Harry removed himself from Albus mind once he had been identified and about to be forcefully removed, "All I ask for is two weeks. Two weeks and then I'm back at Hogwarts and I'll be a regular student under your thumb and tutelage." Harry only pretended to ask.

Albus and Harry eyed each other for a moment, both deciding on the offer. Harry trying to decide if this was the best course of action, Albus wondering what could happen in two weeks; so far only muggle attacks had taken place, it was only a matter of time before the wizarding world was completely involved.

There were no words spoken and neither one of them could see the expression on the others face, but there was sufficient light to let them know that they both nodded.

"Two weeks then."

"Two weeks."

Albus silently disapparated back to Hogsmeade and trekked up to the castle in silent contemplation of the future, and wondering whether or not Harry would notice another tracking device planted in his pocket.

Harry after making sure that Albus had truly gone and did not decide to return and continue his search put his hands in his pockets and made to apparate back to his bedroom. In his right pocket his fingers caressed something metallic and removed the object. Harry didn't even bother looking at it to see if it was another beacon or something more and threw it into the middle of the lake.

He returned to the manor after that and changed into a comfortable pair of pajama bottoms before sliding beneath Hermione and falling asleep again.

* * *

Having a female body semi-atop of him was an incredible feeling to wake up to Harry mentally filed away. Especially after the surreal events of last night where he had had an almost amiable meeting with Albus.

He was being spoilt by this feeling and he knew that. Harry hated the idea at the moment of returning to Hogwarts and sharing a dormitory with four boys; when he'd rather be back here with a girl sleeping next to him.

Before he even made an attempt at movement, Harry felt every muscle in his body protest; telling him to go back to sleep- even his eyelids wanted to disobey his minds commands. So this morning he didn't a slide away from Hermione, he instead mustered the strength and placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her closer enjoying the idea of actually having someone semi-related to him that didn't want him locked in some cupboard.

This feeling was something he was definitely going to miss back at Hogwarts. He debated with the idea of trying to get around or break the schools wards, but admitted to himself though that it was just a ludicrous idea. Anything was possible with enough effort though, but impossible wasn't labeled impossible without good reason.

'_Portkey's would work,'_ he reasoned out while still not getting out of bed. _'Portkey's would definitely work. I've got to figure out why my portkey's randomize their fading though, and Dumbledore's probably has something of a portkey ward in place now.'_

Harry sighed at his supposed problems. What difference did it make where he slept or who he slept next to. He didn't even realize that Hermione was there with him until he woke up the next morning, reveled in her embrace for a few moments before having to disappear and start his day. He would figure out his sleeping arrangements when the time came, but right now he needed to meet Remus.

Stretching only helped slightly as the lactic acid from yesterdays activities had settled in overnight, the day was sure to be one step down from a hellish nightmare of ache's and residual pains. Harry released Hermione from his own embrace and slid slowly from under her, sliding the pillow into place where his shoulder would have been and then setting her hand on top of her wand. Seeing that Hermione was tended to and looking peaceful, Harry apparated into his wardrobe room and got dressed for his circuit.

At the door to the training room a very wide awake and very pleased looking Remus Lupin was waiting for him with a gigantic smile. The smile was matched inside the room by his father's own huge grin. Harry fought the nagging urge to summon his daito and duck to the right.

"What a glorious day wouldn't you say Harry? Ready for a light jog?" Remus asked flashing his regal smile.

Harry not willing to give in this early this morning played along; pleased to see Remus' deflated look when he replied in a jovial nature, "Ah, I slept great and I'm ready for a good day of training!"

The portrait version of James smiled at Harry's baiting of Remus and turned to speak to Sirius. Sirius however had been projected while he was asleep and was now spread eagle on one of the sofas without looking like he would be waking any time soon.

The run had been brisk but both Harry and Remus broke into heavy perspiration as they came to the half hour mark, and were completely soaked when they finished their now twelve kilometer morning run at nineteen kilometers per hour. Then they progressed to weight training, which had also been increased to match Harry's now near werewolf-like strength.

Harry showered and then half dressed himself before apparating to the library and moving through his sixth and seventh year texts for an hour as review. He went completely backwards and forwards through the text books marking down corrections in the margins where the author had missed something or the topic could have been improved or expanded upon to make the skill easier.

There were several Auror training manuals of varying skill levels strewn around the library that he was studying once he finished his review of the topics he would be studying during the coming term. Each manual was open to either a diagram showing the proper formation for a team raiding technique or dueling strategies. Also, wizarding law scrolls were open to sections outlining the strict usage surrounding certain spells; i.e. when it was deemed an _'appropriate'_ time for them to be utilized.

Harry knew that an unforgivable was just that, unforgivable, but if one was cast against you during formal duel or during an ambush then you were given the right according to wizard law to use the same means in return. The law for _'Lex Talionis'_ was ironclad in wizarding tradition and if required Harry would not be without the proper defense in any arena.

Giant scrolls with detailed floor plans of the many buildings that the

Ministry of Magic operated out of lined the walls. Specifically the scrolls were schematics for the Magical Law Enforcement Headquarters (primary offices in the Ministry of Magic itself, and their secondary headquarters), Auror training grounds, and the Ministry of Magic itself. All these diagrams, charts and confidential materials were charmed like the Marauders map so Hermione wouldn't happen upon them and wonder why he had such things.

Towards the end of his private study time Harry was pleased enough with this particular aspect of his studies to have put all of these things aside and give himself a small block of time to try and overcome the time constraints on his conjuring skills.

Tory had confirmed what the book was telling Harry. That thinking about how long they would exist when he brought them into existence was the error; he needed to just make them exist without thinking about time. Of course what Tory had explained had been in terms of elfin magic. There was a bit of a problem with transposing the concept of elfin magic without an apparatus for their magic to flow through and be directed by to human magic with a focus; but he eventually got the idea of what Tory had said and applied it.

Harry had then moved on to meditating on his animagus form, only to find that he was making no progress with defining what the shape was. The blur still remained when he delved far enough into his consciousness to find where his potential form was waiting. He sighed in exasperation, not impatience. Frustration was not far off however at not making it past this block.

'_Why can't I get past this?'_ Harry thought as he took a deep breath coming back up from his meditative state.

Harry rose from the small grey mat he had conjured in the corner of the library and left the library concerned that it was now past noon and Hermione was not in the library as usual.

He apparated from the hallway outside of the library to his bedroom and did not find Hermione in his bed nor her wand, but heard something like a melody coming from the loo.

In bare feet and not making a sound as he moved, Harry made his way over to the closed doors to his bathroom and could definitely hear Hermione singing. He bit his hand in order to conceal the laughter that was begging to be heard when Hermione was attempting to break the glass of the shower's doors.

Harry apparated outside the training room door grinning like he was mad and rubbing the teeth imprints on his knuckles.

"Harry," the portrait of his father called from the wall once he saw Harry come through the door smiling.

"Hello," Harry replied not knowing what to expect.

"I'll keep this short, and then you, Remus and I can start. You're done learning in here this summer, just wait," James held up a hand to stop Harry who was about to protest. "You've reached a plateau that can not be overcome with only the three of us and Silus as your instructors. You'll still come here for training with Remus, myself and Sirius, but it will only be to put to practice what you are learning in the library on your own and to make sure that you do not stall and stop using what you've learned... even if that were possible for you. So, arm yourself."

Remus then had the room produce James projection.

Harry was shocked to say the least that they had come to the conclusion that he had plateaud; that there was nothing more they expected him to be able to accomplish over the next two weeks with them. He was happy however to know that he would still be coming here to test himself and put to practice what he was learning on his own.

'_They must have come to this conclusion after yesterday,'_ Harry thought. _'Why didn't I push myself harder yesterday, I know I can go further... I know I can, I have to be able to.'_

Soaked with perspiration after a heavy practical session; Harry apparated to his bathroom at five past four in the afternoon. He quickly showered and changed into one of his suits. This time he chose a pin stripe design with a blood red buttoned down shirt and a black belt that had a golden gate; symbolic of his Gryffindor house colors when next to his shirt. Harry tied his raven black hair back with a thong that blended in seamlessly.

Fixing his collar Harry asked, "Tory?"

POP!

"What is it that Tory can do for Harry sir?"

Finished with his color he knelt down to be eye to eye with Tory, "Can you tell me where Hermione is?"

Tory nodded enthusiastically, "Miss Hermione is in the basement sir."

Harry looked vexed, "What is she doing in the basement?"

"Sir, she was looking for your father's portrait room last evening when the house redirected her and she found the basement. I believe she is down there exploring the heirlooms and artifacts."

Harry stood and smiled, "Thank-you Tory, will you make sure that she does not discover the sub-basement please?"

"Of course," Tory nodded and then popped away.

Harry closed his eyes, envisioning the drawing room of number 12 Grimmauld Place that he remembered and apparated there.

When he appeared in the drawing room he was surprised to see the room was completely empty save for two chairs in front of the fire-place. Even upon reaching out with his mind to probe the room he still found nothing. So he settled himself into one of the chince chairs that was leftover from the '_Black Family Purge_' and crossed his legs, tented his fingers and sat in silent contemplation for a few moments by the fire in the dark room. He wanted to prepare himself for the emotions of today, he wanted to _'try'_ and prepare.

Ginny, who had been sent by her mother on a sweep of the second floor to make note of everything that still needed to be renovated, stopped dead in her tracks when she entered the drawing room. Her eyes were instantly drawn to a very peaceful, collected Harry Potter in a Professor Dumbledore pose staring into the fire. She was momentarily spell bound by his jade eyes, reflecting the now raging fire in his irises appearing to urge the fire to resist his stare.

While staring into the fire he had just started Harry heard Ginny enter the drawing room and abruptly stop, the sound of her breathing being the sound that still gave away where she was in the darkness. He felt her eyes boring into him for a moment before he turned his attention to her. Even in the darkness she was shrouded in away from the light of the fire Harry was taken aback. In the place of where Ron's little sister was standing was a radiant beauty; still a girl, but a very attractive one at that.

Harry grew a genuine smile of happiness at seeing the girl for the first time this summer and swiftly rose from his seat striding over to where she was. With the wave of his hand Harry extinguished the fire and opened the draperies keeping the light out of the room, cascading both of them in the warmth of the fading sunlight.

Harry was standing right in front of her with a huge smile on his face at seeing his best friends little sister starting to grow up in a beautiful young woman, and swept her into his embrace and off the floor a few inches, then put her back down.

"Hello Ginny, how has this summer been treating you?" Harry asked politely

Ginny felt an incredible conflict within herself. On one hand she wanted to slap Harry with all of her strength for everything he had put her mum through and the rest of the order as well, but on the other hand Harry had just grabbed her in his hands and held her close to him.

"Uhm, it was, it's, uhm..."

"Ginny? Is everything alright? Are you feeling ok, do you need to sit?" Harry asked with concern. He knew that Ginny had had a crush on him for some years, Hermione had been very candid about what he had missed right in front of him over the past years; but this past year he thought she had gotten past that with hearing about Michael Corner and then Dean Thomas on the train ride back from Hogwarts.

"Sorry, I'm fine, I need... I need to go see mum," Ginny said while pulling herself from his hands that were placed on her shoulders and trying to guide her to the sofa, turning in an almost run from the room.

'_Hopefully she'll tell her mum that I'm here,'_ Harry told himself preparing for the possible onslaught of order members if Mad-Eye had been keen enough to see him apparate into the house and informed the other members.

Harry started to look about the drawing room, taking in how different it looked when completely cleaned and painted in deep reds.

'_Maybe...,'_ Harry started to think to himself about Sirius' old home, but the entrance of Mrs. Weasley broke his train of thought.

Molly Weasley came rounding through the eastern drawing room door and crossed the distance to him with the speed of what looked faster than his own appearance in front of Ginny only minutes earlier.

"Harry dear! Do you know the state you've put me in! The state you've put this whole house and order in! Come here!," she scolded him and then grabbed him in a gigantic hug he thought he saw coming but was unprepared for when she started scolding him.

Harry was prepared to stop her scolding, but just let her enveloped him in her arms.

'_Mum,'_ Harry thought when being held by Molly Weasley thinking he would start weeping at any moment.

There was no one in his life to tell him that it would all be alright, that everything would work out in the end. No one that did not have their own agenda and something to gain from telling him these things he knew to be lies. His father had listened to him break down when he talked about the prophecy, and Sirius and Remus had done the same; not a one of them being able to comfort him with anything more than empty words. All he wanted was his parents, for them to hold him and protect him from all the things in the world that he feared and did not understand; all he wanted was something he could never have.

Harry tried to remain stoic when being held by Mrs. Weasley.

"Mrs. Weasley its good to see you too," Harry mumbled into her bosom.

Molly Weasley stood bewildered in front of a Harry Potter that had just rejected her scolding by completely ignoring it and hugging her in return. Not one of her children had ever had the mettle or the ability to quiet her so quickly.

"Harry...," Mrs. Weasley started.

Just as Mrs. Weasley had said his name, Harry grabbed her again letting out some of what he had been holding inside of him since the beginning of the summer and hugged her with the same force that she had held him with. This woman had been the only maternal figure he had ever had in his mind, and while he only knew solitude for the better part of his life, any time spent with a woman who would hug him like this; like he was one of her own was time that Harry would never give up.

Molly Weasley completed mollified and feeling an even deeper connection with the young man she thought of as her own said, "... you too dear, it's good to see you too. I... I'm sorry about flying off like that, but you've scared a lot of us... and..." Harry stopped her.

Harry couldn't take stand the torrent of emotions inside of him and let out everything he had been holding in and held on tighter to her, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to scare you or anyone... I just needed to get away for a bit, and Albus and Hermione and Riddle... and you all and I couldn't... I'm so sorry... I don't want to hurt anyone..."

Molly just wept as she held Harry close to him and let him vent.

'_Why?'_ Molly asked herself and fate.

Harry cried openly into Molly's shoulder and felt her finger-nails digging into his skin, praying to whoever was listening that they would never let him go.

Tears landed in Harry's hair as Molly gave him the one thing he had never had, the one thing he didn't know how to ask for or grab for himself.

Something had changed in the few moments that he had been held by Molly Weasley, something that now felt like an odd lifting and shielding weight in his chest. But as he looked into Molly's eyes to confirm his thoughts he suddenly started thinking like a small child instead of the adult he wanted her and the rest of the world to see; even with glistening eyes.

"I'm happy that you're still thinking of me at least," Harry said flashing a genuine sheepish smile and wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.

"WELL OF COURSE I'M THINKING OF YOU!" Molly shouted as if it was her job to think of him since he obviously didn't do it for himself.

"Thank-you," Harry responded still smiling.

Molly then wiped her own tears from her eyes and took a small step back from Harry

"I mean it mum, sorry Mrs. Weasley," Harry said trying to cover his slip. "Thank-you for thinking about me and I know this won't make a difference, but you don't have to worry about me," Harry stated to an again teary eyed Molly Weasley.

Molly was dabbing at her eyes constantly, thinking of Harry growing so much in such a short span of time. She was about to tell him that of course what he said about not worrying did not make a difference when Tonks burst through the door with a menacing stalk towards Harry.

Tonks head was slightly titled down, allowing her now straight long black hair to hide her facial features from Harry and Mrs. Weasley's view. Both however could feel the anger and determination radiating off of her.

Tonks stopped just a few feet from Harry staring into his eyes and glaring daggers, trying to convey her message telepathically.

Harry turned his attention to Mrs. Weasley who took the hint and slowly started to leave the room. He then returned his attention to Tonks and nodded.

"Harry," she said through clenched teeth.

"Tonks," he replied courteously with all traces of the emotion he had just spilt in front of Mrs. Weasley completely gone.

As Harry replied with her name her open palm sailed through the air intent on repaying Harry for humiliating her.

Harry saw the attack coming and could have easily dodged it, but now was the time to prove a point and Harry stood steadfast letting the open palm strike him square on the cheek.

He didn't even register the slap. Remus had poked him harder, to be honest in gauging her attempt to emasculate him. He felt the smoothness of her palm but the blow did nothing, he didn't even blink or move his head to the side for her benefit. He merely raised his eyebrows and gestured to the palm that was still on his cheek.

"Do you mind?" Harry asked a shocked looking Tonks.

"How did you do that?" Tonks asked shocked and confused.

"You do not need to know that. You've shown me what you think of what I've done to you, which you took entirely wrong. And if you're quite finished will you kindly remove your hand?"

The smooth and controlling tone that Harry had used when speaking to her had Tonks stepping away from Harry; wondering who the person in front of her was and where the scrawny boy from two months ago was.

"Uhm... yeah," she replied and then fled from the room in the same manner that Ginny had done earlier.

"Harry, she shouldn't have hit you," Hermione said from behind him.

"It doesn't make a difference does it," Harry sighed and turned to face Hermione. "She got her feelings out of her system, no harm no foul. Except that now she's up in one of the rooms questioning her abilities as an Auror if she can't knock down a sixteen year old."

Harry properly greeted Hermione, "Hello Hermione, you're getting much better at controlling your apparation I see."

"Hello Harry," Hermione cheekily replied with a small smile. "I had Tory track you here, I hope you don't mind?"

"No, not at all, please," Harry smiled back at her and held out his hand for her to take.

Hermione took his hand and thanked him as they both left the drawing room in search of the rest of the occupants of the home.

As they walked down the stairs to the kitchen Harry said, "I should have asked if you wanted to come here in the first place."

Hermione smiled at his apology, "Yes, you should have."

"Cheeky cheeky," Harry replied.

Harry and Hermione both chuckled at their small banter before pushing open the door to the kitchen in the basement of number 12 Grimmauld Place. They opened the doors to find Mad-Eye, Fred, George, Ron and Mrs. Weasley around the kitchen island.

'_Ginny must be in her room,'_ Harry thought when he didn't see her at the table.

Mad-Eye was the only one in the kitchen that seemed unconcerned with Harry and Hermione's interest. All eyes in the kitchen however took notice of Harry and Hermione holding hands.

Ron instantly shot a hateful glare at Harry and stood up from the stool he was sitting on, and made it a point of trying to shove his shoulder into Harry's as he left the room. All this accomplished was a slightly sad expression to appear on Harry's face and Ron hurting his shoulder.

Harry remembered that he was still holding Hermione's hand and that no one here knew that it was platonic.

'_He would just assume, wouldn't he,'_ Harry thought himself.

Hermione was the one to remove her hand from their shared grip and thought to herself, _'Damnit.'_

"It's not what you think," Harry said looking pointedly at Mrs. Weasley.

Fred and George chose the exact moment that Harry held his hands up in defense to burst into insane laughter, causing them to fall off their stools and roll around on the stone tiles.

Mrs. Weasley closed the distance between Hermione and herself and drew her into a tight, but not bone-crushing hug and asking her if she was alright and if she wanted anything to drink at all.

'_Albus should have just brought her here in the first place,'_ Harry though when he saw the interaction between Mrs. Weasley and Hermione, and the guilty grin that Hermione wore when Mrs. Weasley hugged her motherly.

Mrs. Weasley then turned to Harry, "Don't worry dear, he'll cool down. He's actually been different ever since the photo in the prophet."

Harry turned to look at the closed door, "I need to talk to him."

George and Fred picked themselves up off the floor and seated themselves back onto their stools, with their elbows on the island and fingers tented; in a mocking position for Harry to take notice of.

Harry saw what they were doing and said, "I don't suppose you have any lemon drops do you?"

Fred leaned in next to his brother whispering in his ear. George nodded and said with a very feral grin, "I've just been informed we do."

"Knowing you two, it's something more than the ordinary lemon drop."

"We'd never prank a partner," Fred started.

"Partner," George finished leveling his gaze on Harry as Ginny came walking through the door with a very controlled and practiced expression on her face.

"Partner?" Harry asked.

"Partner, one-third," they both said in unison.

Harry apparated directly behind them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, "I wouldn't say you wouldn't prank me just yet."

Fred and George each changed their expressions of dawning confusion to calculating grins.

"How'd you do that mate? You couldn't have apparated," George started.

"You didn't make a sound." Fred finished.

"And he isn't of age to have license either," Ginny added, although in awe of Harry and his disappearance.

Hermione smiled at each and every one of the expressions that all of the Weasley's wore, knowing exactly what they were thinking and feeling at that precise moment.

Moody answered gruffly, "What you four just saw was controlled apparation, Potter there can control the sound when he apparates and disapparates. How he learned it I couldn't tell ya, but there's only a handful 'a wizards that can do it."

"Harry can apparate?" Fred, George, and Ginny said in unison again.

'_Not surprising,'_ Ginny thought with pride and sharing a knowing look at Hermione.

"It would appear so," Moody stated before turning to his open hip flask and taking a swig.

"Wicked," Fred and George said.

"What do you think...?" Fred started.

"Prefect?" George finished asking

"Yeah, you're the one besides mum and Mr. Moody that should be punishing him for learning and using apparation before he's of age," Fred stated mockingly of his sister's and Hermione's prefect status.

"Don't start," Ginny said threatening. "Just wait 'till I can use magic without restriction, years of retribution brothers, years."

"Beside the fact that I can do anything I want to, there's nothing any of the authorities in this room can do to stop me," Harry stated arrogantly to mess with the twins.

"Anything you say?" George asked.

"It's a sad sad day indeed brother and sister dear, Harry's learned to jest back," Fred dramatically mocked flinging his hand to his head and pretending to faint, only to be caught by George.

George equally dramatic, "I've got you brother dear, but its going to cost you."

"George, why I never," Fred crowed.

"Why Fred, I didn't know you gave a damn." George stated before his brother dropped him on his arse.

"Git."

"Prat."

"Brother," Fred said opening his arms wide.

"Brother," George said opening his arms wider and stepping into his brother waiting embrace where they both were pretending to cry happily.

Ginny was giggling at the show they put on, that they always put on. She was happy that the twins were visiting today, especially when they looked like they were ready to try something on her but showed their fear in their eyes.

Alastor watched with a slightly amused expression, letting his magical eye swivel in its socket scanning the above floors. He only saw Tonks sitting alone in her room with her head in her hands, not doubt from that display Potter put on that he saw earlier.

"Potter, you might want to have a word with Nymph," Mad-Eye said.

Harry disapparated and appeared inside of Tonks room, "Feeling a bit out of sorts?"

Tonks looked at him dumbstruck.

"I didn't mean anything by it."

Tonks snorted and shook her head before saying, "Alright, but you owe me."

"I think not, you just got your payment I believe."

"Prat."

Harry made a quick decision and made a swift trip to a nearly deserted Diagon Alley after having talked with Tonks and then apparated back to the kitchen of number 12.

"This," Harry said breaking up the conversation by holding out one box towards Ginny, "is to express my gratitude for coming with me to the ministry and for sticking with me last year when I was... having a bit of a nervous breakdown. Other than hugging you and saying thank-you this is the only thing I can do to show you my appreciation."

"AHA! He admitted it!" George shouted.

"And in a roomful of people no less!" Fred crowed.

Harry just smiled and watched as Ginny slowly opened the lid and then quickly shut it.

Ginny mouthed the word, "No."

'_I can't accept this,'_ Ginny thought but was second guessing herself.

"Harry, you don't have to do this and you know I can't accept this."

Harry caught the look he had only ever seen Ron wear when he was playing chess and decided to go along and see where this went.

"You do and please. Ginny, Gryffindor's seeker needs to be on the best broom available so you can't refuse because of personal pride, think about the team," Harry said, hoping what he said had been correct.

"Aren't you going to be back on the team this year, I thought Professor Dumbledore would have had that ridiculous decree revoked?" Hermione asked, voicing Ginny's own pending question.

"Perhaps. I'll have to see about that," Harry replied calmly.

"C'mon Harry," Ginny said to Harry. "Dumbledore'll be sure to overturn that hag's decree, and the other pieces of legislative lunacy she turned out."

"Ginny, you're a great seeker, so if I'm not on the team it works out. And if not then we'll be equally matched for a tryout. **_If_** you're up for it," Harry stated raising an eyebrow in a challenging gesture towards Ginny.

Ginny not one to turn down or walk away from a challenge said with her arms folded across her chest and stern gaze on her face, "You're on Potter."

'_Perfect,'_ Harry thought in triumph.

"Besides, who's going to be captain if you're not back on the team? You've got the seniority," Fred asked assuming that Harry would be back on the team in no time.

"You've forgotten about Katie already? She's a seventh year this term; she's got the seniority. Either it'll be her or Ron for captain so I'm not concerned, neither one of them will be another Wood," Harry said it like Ron having a shot at the captains position was completely obvious and out in the open for him to grab.

"Well what makes you think that Ron has a chance against Katie then?" George asked as Ginny and Hermione's eyes went from him to Harry.

"Let's count out the reasons," Harry said looking at a grinning pair of proud twins, Ginny and Hermione. "He lives and breathes the sport, he wont shut up about it, he reads Quidditch strategy books for fun, knows every broom, player and statistic as if written on a screen that followed him around all day so you wouldn't forget; am I missing anything?" Harry asked Ron's siblings.

"Yeah, you forgot," George started.

"Completely obsessed," Fred continued.

"And touched in the head when it comes to Quidditch," Ginny finished with even more pride.

"You have it right there, from me, you two- the two best beaters on the Gryffindor Quidditch team in half a century, and Ginny who's a natural just like Charlie was when he played or so I was told," Harry stated smilingly.

"Now, he needs to hear it," Mrs. Weasley said to them.

"I'm not saying he's a sure thing. Katie's got the experience and the right to it, but if she doesn't want it because of N.E.W.T.'s then the title and position is Ron's."

Ginny was blushing enough for herself and Ron at Harry's off handed compliment about her seeker skills and her brother's chances at the captaincy of their house team.

"Dumbledore's here Potter, in the drawin' room," Moody told him.

"Thank-you Alastor," Harry said and disapparated without a sound.

Once Harry was gone the twins rounded on Ginny and Ron, "Well, did he get you what we think he got you?"

"If you're thinking that he got me what Ron could only have dreamed of... then yeah, you're right," Ginny beamed.

"Well, c'mon then show us," Fred said.

Molly Weasley started busying herself with preparing dinner when she turned and looked at Made-Eye, "Did you just let Harry call you Alastor?"

"Aye," Moody grunted answering the question.

Molly, knowing that this was something that did not normally happen when addressing Alastor, returned to her cutting boards, mulling this occurrence over.

Harry did not apparate to the drawing room to meet Albus, instead he apparated to the bedroom that he and Ron had shared the previous holiday.

"Ron," Harry said removing his suit jacket and tossing it onto one of the chairs by the desk.

Ron jumped up from where he was sitting on the bed looking at the floor when Harry appeared silently in his room, "I didn't hear you come in. But then I wouldn't would I?"

"Listen mate," Harry started calmly.

"You just have to have everything don't you?" Ron asked meeting Harry's eye, he was still taller than Harry.

Harry held up his hand in a negative gesture, "What?"

"I talked to Tonks, you see this?" Ron asked pointing the slight bruising on his cheek. "She knocked it into me that I couldn't be you, that you wanted to be me. But you don't want to be me do you? You can have everything without being me, including my family. I saw the way my mum looked when she came into the kitchen... and then you showed up right behind her; I just knew you had caused it. And then you come in holding hands with Hermione no less..."

Harry cut off his tirade, "Listen mate..."

"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME YOUR MATE YOU BLOODY BACKSTABBING ORPHANED BASTARD!" Ron screamed at Harry when he tried to cut him off.

Harry stared at Ron trying to think this situation through. He knew that Ron didn't understand, he knew that what he said he didn't really mean because he didn't have all the facts. But Ron had this built up inside of him, and Harry couldn't help but feel betrayed when he did absolutely nothing wrong. He was blamed for something he had never done and now here he was contemplated either trying to make it through this conversation with Ron or just beat the daylight out of him.

'_Tonks obviously didn't hit him hard enough,'_ Harry thought to himself before trying to speak.

Harry started calmly again, "You don't understand..."

Ron cut him off again quicker this time, "DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT, THAT YOU'VE BEEN COOPED UP FOR HALF A MONTH WITH HERMIONE DOING MERLIN KNOWS WHAT, AND THEN YOU STROLL THROUGH THE DOOR HOLDING HER HAND AND WEARING THAT SMUG GRIN! TELL ME WHAT I DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND ABOUT THAT YOU PRETENTIOUS GIT!"

"Listen to yourself... can you hear what you're saying? What do you think Hermione and I have been doing? What possible scenario do you have built up in your head between Hermione and I? What!? Did you think I'd take her away from just having her parents killed and being locked up to shag her brains out for my trouble, and make her my girlfriend!? Is that it then you stupid prick!? YOU WANT WHAT I HAVE!? THEN FINE, TAKE IT!"

Harry ripped the shirt from his body and threw it at Ron's feet, pulled the wallet from his back pocket and threw that on top of the shirt, "Take it. Take it all if it will make you so damn happy. Do you want expensive clothes because you've never had them? Here take them. Have all the money you've ever wanted, but take this as well, so you know how I _paid_ for it all...," Harry said remorsefully to his best friend, and performed legilimency; sending his whole life unrestrained up to that very moment Ron was attacked in the ministry.

Ron still fuming and raged at Harry, fell to his knees watching Harry's life seep into his mind... his memory.

Harry watched as Ron's hatred contorted itself into every horrible expression he could have imagined. He could have eased this like he had with his relatives, but Ron was different. He watched until Ron couldn't take it anymore and passed from viewing these memories consciously into his dreams.

Harry walked over to where Ron lay on the wooden floor and picked him up in his arms, "Ron."

Ron did not respond to Harry's calling.

Harry shook the boy and called out again, "Ron, get-up."

He felt Ron start to shake in his arms and then suddenly Ron's eyes lids fluttered open and gazed in horror at Harry.

Harry didn't know what to do. He felt that he had just saved his friendship somehow and violated his best friend at the same time by doing so... he just pulled Ron closer to him and hugged who he thought was his brother.

Ron said nothing and just hugged Harry in return.

Neither spoke as Harry helped Ron to his feet and Harry redressed and returned his wallet to his pocket.

Ron then sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands mulling over everything he had seen.

Harry saw Ron was very much in a daze and that no words would explain what had just happened between them, or make it easier to deal with so he picked up his suit jacket and walked out of the room.

Ron had only registered the sound of Harry's shoes hitting the hardwood floor and then the sound suddenly stopping, he didn't know that Harry had walked out on him.

Harry hoped that Albus would still be in the drawing room waiting for him, since he would no doubt have been felt using legilimency just now by him and disapparated.

"Albus," Harry said seeing the old man seated in the same chair he had chosen when he first arrived.

"Good-evening Harry," Albus replied and gestured for Harry to take a seat opposite him.

"I don't understand any of this," Harry started.

"Nor should you have to my boy," Albus sighed.

"Hermione will want to stay here now," Harry said changing the topic.

"Thank-you for informing me Harry," Albus nodded; happy to let Harry steer the conversation in the state he was currently in.

As stoic as Harry appeared, Albus could see through Harry's emotional shield when he wasn't too keen on keeping it raised.

"If anything happens Albus, anything at all..."

Albus was very much aware of how much damage Harry was willing to inflict, "Yes Harry. I understand."

Harry nodded to Albus, who tilted his head and then stood. He placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder only to have it shrugged off.

Harry apparated back to the kitchen where the Weasley's were now discussing the coming school term with a very happy looking Hermione leading the conversation.

Harry flashed a knowing smile, and Hermione threw him a grateful look of understanding. It was amazing to her that words were almost completely unnecessary between them now.

'_Will it always be like this?'_ Harry questioned himself before apparating back to Hermione wardrobe room at the manor.

With a few simple spells; Harry had shrunk, then boxed and pocketed Hermione's belongings and apparated back to the room he assumed she would be sharing with Ginny at Grimmauld place. Harry placed the boxes on the bed and the trunk at the foot before resizing them and leaving the room.

Harry returned the kitchen just as Fred and George were grabbing Hermione's arm and stopping her from using her wand.

"Hermione, you aren't masked here!" Harry said quickly.

Fred and George each released the arm that they were holding.

"I should have known that," Hermione said looking sheepish and putting her wand back into the holster on her left arm under the sleeve of her blouse.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, understanding that they had been using magic without restriction this entire time.

"All of your things are in your old bedroom upstairs," Harry said to Hermione masking the sadness in his voice.

"Thank-you," Hermione said with a gracious smile.

"You're staying here now?" Ginny asked excitedly.

"Harry's helped me be able to... cope, but I need to be here now. I need to plan a funeral for my father and be able to see my mother **and** have another girl to talk to. Not that you aren't great to talk to Harry," Hermione said hoping she didn't offend Harry.

Harry waved his hands away, "There are some things that I don't need to know, and that I don't _want _to know."

Fred and George snorted in agreement and Mad-Eye actually started to chuckle as Ginny smacked the twins upside the head.

"Hey!" they shouted, their only means of retaliation with their mother around.

"Stuff it," Ginny stated not leaving any room for them to say anything in rebuttal.

Ginny grabbed Hermione by the hand and started to drag her from the kitchen, "Come on."

"Girls," Harry muttered. "It was good to see you again Ginny."

Ginny stopped dragging Hermione for a moment and looked at Harry in confusion. Hermione also looked at Harry, but wore an expression of gratitude for everything he had done for her.

"Get used to it mate," Fred said hearing the first part of what Harry had said.

"I'm surprised you haven't already," George added.

Harry spoke up, ending this topic of discussion, "It's not something you get used to."

Harry was still staring at the door that Ginny and Hermione had just walked through.

"Harry's right you two. You'd do well to take a page out of his book," Mrs. Weasley said from in front of the sink.

"Yeah," George started.

"Especially the page where he knocked the wind outta ol' Snape," Fred added.

"Especially," George finished.

Harry laughed lightly, "How did you three find out about that?"

Mad-Eye actually laughed at that question. He had had one hell of a time picking apart all of the new inventions that the twins had recently turned out for surveillance and was still sure that everything had yet to be found.

Fred and George looked scandalized and stated in unison, "Harry! Do you think that we two could not invent a way?"

Harry's face hardened at the memory of the tracking device, "No, I am more than sure that you two could have found a way."

The twins chose miss the look on Harry's face when Professor McGonagall came walking through the kitchen door with her walking stick in hand.

"You are most surprising do you know that Mr. Potter?" she asked trying to hide a smile.

"I have been told before," he replied turning to smile at his head of house and favourite professor that was still teaching. Remus would always be his favourite.

Professor McGonagall worded her response in more of a question than the order it was, "I am interested to know how you did what you have done this summer Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded, "as are many people."

Professor McGonagall smiled at Harry's slight cheek, "you would do well to remember that I am your head of house Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled back at her, "Professor McGonagall would dock your own house points? Would you be the one to deprive the potions master of his favourite past time?"

"Professor Snape, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall challenged.

"Semantics," Harry replied with a bigger smile.

"Harry," Professor McGonagall said breaking character from her usual stern demeanor.

Harry leaned his head forward, completely oblivious to the stares he was receiving from the Weasley's in the kitchen, "Minerva."

The gasps from the Weasley's had broken the momentary staring contest between the smiling Harry and Professor McGonagall.

Harry and Professor McGonagall took note of the gaping stares before nodding at each other once more in recognition.

"Good-day Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said.

"Good-day Professor," Harry replied.

Professor McGonagall then left the kitchen with a slight limp in her step and an uncharacteristic large grin on her face.

"Er, what just happened?" Fred asked.

Harry turned to stare at the door, "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Fred and George had their mental gears turning, trying to figure out a way to manipulate the situation and find some way of using this against Harry in the future for teasing purposes.

Mrs. Weasley looked dumbstruck at Harry, not believing she had just witnessed what she had seen.

Harry turned to face Mrs. Weasley, "Mrs. Weasley, I have to be going now."

"What about your Ron dear?" Molly asked reaching out and grabbing his upper arm.

"I talked to him, just give him a day or two," Harry said stepping forward and hugging Molly.

Molly smiled and looked him in the eye and titled her head towards the table in the corner laden with wrapped packages, "Happy Birthday Harry."

"Oh," Harry blushed lightly.

The Weasley boys all smirked and thought the same thing, _'Perfect material to work with.'_

Harry caught the smirks and winked at them, throwing them off guard and worrying about what they had really seen, not what they thought they had seen.

"Would you mind if I took them with me?"

"Of course not," Molly softly said.

"Thanks."

Harry waved his wand in a downward slashing motion and then raised it back to chest level. The gifts shrunk down to the size of individually wrapped pieces of candy, which Harry then pocketed.

Alastor got up from his stool, "Good-luck Harry."

"Thank-you," Harry said not knowing if he knew about the prophecy or meant in regards to something else.

"Good-bye Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George," Harry said.

Harry walked over to where Mad-Eye was standing and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "I want to know what happened to the Grangers, I have a drop, send anything."

Alastor nodded when he saw the look on Harry.

Harry then straightened himself, gave everyone a warm smile and disapparated back to his manor.

* * *

Harry reappeared in his bedroom at the manor where he immediately sat down on the edge of his bed, putting his head into his hands.

"She didn't even say good-bye," he muttered into his palms. "They're all going to leave without saying good-bye."


	14. Someone's Said, But Who's to Know?

**Someone's Said But Who's To Know:**

"Miss Weasley?" Professor Dumbledore asked entering Ginny and Hermione's bedroom. "Might I borrow Miss Granger for a moment?"

Hermione had only just finished placing her things in their new closet and drawers; and showing Ginny everything that she wanted to see when Professor Dumbledore appeared in the doorway.

Ginny smiled at Hermione letting her know she would be fine, and watched as Hermione gave a smile of her own and turned to follow Professor Dumbledore.

Hermione followed Professor Dumbledore to the previously sealed Black Family Library where she was informed of the discovery that Kreacher had been the one responsible for sealing it; and the copious heirlooms and knick knacks that had been found inside were his hoard. She was also told that most of what the elf had been collecting and hiding had been disposed of, as it had mostly been related to the darker aspects of the Black Family

Hermione's instantly filed that information away for a later time when her eyes discovered for themselves the prospect of being able to go through another magical family library; Harry's library had been very informative and she had yet to read all the volumes it contained, but the Black Family was sure to have many more _'obscure' _and forgotten tomes.

Albus led them to a study table in the middle of the library, and took a seat while waving his hand to pull out a seat for Hermione to sit in.

Hermione complied and sat cordially expecting to talk either of Harry or her parents. She was expecting the subtlety of an apology and then moving on to Harry, but neither topic was one she was keen on discussing; as she held Harry's confidence, and her parents were... a sensitive topic.

Hermione did not harbor any sort of resentment towards Professor Dumbledore, despite her own thoughts that she should in some way. She understood that he had done his best; providing protection for a family marked for death by association with Harry, but his best had been for not as her father was dead and her mother in St. Mungo's permanently.

Professor Dumbledore reaches his hand out and places it atop Hermione's, "Miss Granger... I am terribly sorry."

"Thank-you Professor, but you had my safety as a concern. There's nothing to apologize for," Hermione replies doubting her own words as she speaks them.

"It would seem that you were better taken care of by young Harry," Professor Dumbledore said dispiritedly but staring directly at Hermione.

Hermione sighed lightly at Professor Dumbledore's tone but closed off her mind as Professor Dumbledore switched the subject so quickly to Harry.

"Harry has been very kind to me; everything I've needed he's provided," Hermione said wanting to emphasize that it was indeed Harry and not Professor Dumbledore as it should have been; although she was almost too polite for that.

Professor Dumbledore gave a nod to Hermione's confirmation and adopted a pensive countenance as he recalled Harry's salutation, _'fixing your mistakes'_.

Hermione noticed the professor's thoughtful look and switched the topic to what they should have been discussing, "Sir... Professor, I'd like to start planning a funeral for my father."

"Miss Granger, I apologize, Auror's collected your father's body..." Professor Dumbledore started, going stoic.

Hermione suppressed a shudder when Professor Dumbledore mentioned her father's _'body.'_

"... the Ministry with no means to contact you, performed a ceremony for him."

Hermione looked completely stupefied when she asked tentatively, "cremated?"

Professor Dumbledore just tilted his head in affirmation, with a slight twinkle to his eye that Hermione had studied this particular aspect of wizarding culture.

"The remains?" Hermione asked, still too shocked to show any signs of emotional response.

"The Muggle Parliament is in possession, and will relinquish control when you claim your father and collect..."

'_Possession? Control? Claim? Collect?'_ Hermione asked herself not believing a human being can be thought of in this way.

"... Your home was sold in your mother's name as she is receiving care at St. Mungo's. Your family heirlooms and all possessions have been placed into storage under your mother's name as well and will remain there until you choose to retrieve them. Your parents surgery has been closed, the building they owned and operated sold under both your parent's name, the revenues from these sales Professor McGonagall as your head of house placed into a vault at Gringotts in your name. The inheritance your father's insurance policy that was to be left to you and your mother is being used at the current time to afford your mother her stay in St. Mungo's indefinitely."

Hermione had her hands in her lap the entire time Professor Dumbledore informed her of all that she had missed in so little time. Her head was still tilted downward, eyes closed tightly in an effort to stay the tears that were begging to be shed. She was only now realizing that she hadn't yet properly grieved for her parents, everything that had happened had offered some sort of welcome distraction.

Albus wanted nothing more at this moment for Hermione to let out all the suffering he had caused; the way he had seen her act with Harry... the way he wanted everyone who had been through this to act when he knew it was his fault... the way that no one acted, save for one.

Hermione looked up, and through bloodshot eyes asked, "May I go to see my mother now, please?"

"Tomorrow that can be arranged. I am sorry to say that the members present right now would not make a sufficient guard."

"Guards did not appear to make that much of a difference if _'young'_ Harry can come and take me away," Hermione scornfully replied.

Albus made no sign that the words cut him, but inwardly he agreed with all of his heart with Hermione's assessment of the situation. _'The risk is too great, however correct she may be.'_

Hermione started to cry when she looked into Professor Dumbledore's un-twinkling eyes, "Oh Professor... I'm so sorry; I shouldn't have said that... I... I, I'm sorry."

"Quite alright my dear, I had the opportunity to watch the interaction between yourself and Harry when you first met this summer. I am surprised that I was not met with the same reaction," Professor Dumbledore said with a small smile trying to curve it's way onto his face.

Hermione sniffed and rubbed the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper before asking, "What happened between you and Harry, Professor?"

Professor Dumbledore answered quickly and in his opinion honestly, "Harry is very confused about his life right now, Miss Granger."

Hermione gave a small laugh at Professor Dumbledore's explanation.

"I must admit I am curious to know why you find that to be amusing. Would you care to explain?"

'_Persistent... perhaps Harry was wrong, and Professor Dumbledore was a Hufflepuff,'_ Hermione thought as she decided to go along and try to push off thoughts of her parents.

"Professor, Harry is no way confused," Hermione said.

Professor Dumbledore seeing the possibility of learning more of what Harry has been doing ask, "Would you please correct me in my thinking that Harry is indeed confused?"

Hermione gave a small check to her acquiescent occlumen's shield like Silus and Harry had taught her and watched as the surprise of her doing so appeared in Professor Dumbledore's widening eyes; Hermione offered a small smile at his surprise of her personal achievement.

"Harry is well beyond Hogwarts curriculum sir, at least in my opinion. In all honesty, I've caught him reading our sixth and seventh year texts as leisure material... that's when he's not writing in the margins."

Professor Dumbledore interrupted Hermione's starting explanation, "Do you know what he is writing in the margins?"

Albus had a notion that Miss Granger could not help herself and found out what he had indeed been writing.

"He was trying to correct certain aspects of the text." Hermione answered, expecting another question waiting for her.

"Trying?" Professor Dumbledore asks trying to be as vague as possible.

"I've seen Harry perform many incredible feats Professor. For him, well, it's a bit like Einstein isn't it? He's had the hardest time with some of the simpler spells, but with the advance studies he's had almost no problem, from what I've seen; though he's let me in on very little anyway. Now, he has no problem with any of it, and when he's trying to correct the text- he's correcting it solely for himself I believe; the way he finds it easiest, but the way that would be near impossible for the rest of us."

Professor Dumbledore raised his right eyebrow but otherwise remained stoic with the thought, _'It appears I was correct then.'_

Hermione paused for a breath and then continued, "He's beyond seventh year material in most of the courses offered at Hogwarts, and with his help my own studies have progressed partly into seventh year studies; I admit though I had already read the previous year's sixth year reading list. Of course you know about his occlumen's skills or you wouldn't have asked me what I know of his studies; he was the one who taught me. His real skill, is his new affinity for learning; I swear he just absorbs those tomes now."

'_One who taught; how many were there? Absorption techniques perhaps?'_ Albus considered the possibilities to himself, the fact that Harry was ahead of his year and the year ahead of him was no surprise.

"Oh, I almost forgot. You should know this, Harry told me, _'Magic is Magic'_."

Professor Dumbledore's stoic expression broke and he chuckled at Harry's quip.

'_She is progressing almost as well as Harry in hiding her true emotions,'_ Albus thought looking at Hermione now smiling, only minutes after having been told what happened to her family while she was away.

Professor Dumbledore regained control of his emotions and asks, "Is there anything else you would care to share with me?"

Hermione, still smiling with the thought of Harry in her mind says, "No, sir."

"Well then, would you care to further your own occlumen's skills when you return to school this term, you might have some knowledge that would be better protected with increased self awareness?" Professor Dumbledore asked knowing that Harry might have shared something inadvertently that would make Hermione an even larger target.

Hermione nodded, knowing that this will open her mind completely to the professor and that by that time Harry will have already been studying with him. She assumed that Harry would be sharing everything with him while they worked together anyway.

"Professor Dumbledore, thank-you for your time. Would you please excuse me?" Hermione asked knowing that there was no more point to this conversation.

"Of course my dear," Professor Dumbledore said, and then stood as Hermione did and watched her leave the library.

Albus took his seat once Hermione was gone from view and sat in silent contemplation, analyzing what Hermione had told him for something more in her words he had possibly missed. His private thoughts were interrupted when the sound of Alastor's clunking steps created an echo as he entered the expansive room.

"I'm curious to know why the lass didn't ask about what happened that night," Alastor asked turning to eye the door Albus was staring at, his magical eye hovering in sync with the real one.

Dumbledore stood once more, next to his old friend and told him before leaving the room, "She does not want to know."

Alastor grunted his acceptance of Albus' words and watched him leave. He then reached a decision about writing what exactly went wrong to Potter, the lad he thought needed to know.

Hermione returned to her and Ginny's room where Ginny was modeling in front of the mirror with one of Hermione's new dresses.

Hermione said to Ginny when she saw the younger girl become embarrassed and start to put the clothing back, "You know you're welcome to all of this right?'

Ginny blushes lightly and asked, "You sure?"

"Of course," Hermione answered still having trouble with the dichotomy of her thoughts.

Ginny noticed the odd look on Hermione face and asks, "Are you ok?"

Hermione looked up from the floor and for the first time in her life snorts, "No, not in the least."

"Do you want to talk about it?' Ginny asked while she put the dress back on her bed, crossed the room and closed the distance between her and her friend.

Ginny took Hermione's hand and lead her to Hermione's bed where they sat side by side in silence for a few moments.

After a while of just listening to the collective sounds of their breathing, Hermione chose the darker of the two minds she was about and progressed to tell Ginny everything she was thinking and feeling.

_'Who are they, and how the hell did they get here?'_ Harry asked himself as he followed the two robed figures he had spotted from his roof top observatory.

The figures abruptly came to a halt in the clearing of the woods and turned to confront their stalker.

Harry found his heart beating wildly and prepared himself for a possible fight, he could hear the pounding of his blood in his ears, taste the adrenalin his body was producing and feel nothing but the sense of justice that was sure to come.

"I'm dreaming... aren't I?" Harry asked not sure whether or not he wanted the answer when his prey lowered their hoods.

Harry found himself staring into his eyes... his mother's eyes. Lily Potter stood not more than eight feet from her son, with her husband behind her and gently resting his hand on her shoulder for support; her own hand atop his.

She did not speak, just stood with tears in her eyes looking at her son; and Harry begged that she would just say one word to him, it didn't matter what word- just that he could hear her voice without her screaming.

Harry heard the voice he had heard scream for him to be spared so many times speak softly in his mind, _'Yes, and you need to wake up now.'_

Harry looked behind him surveying the dark forest and then turned his attention back to his parents. He saw his father, older than his portrait but still very much the same; and his mother... she was more beautiful to him than any photo could have ever prepared him for.

"I don't... I want to stay here... with you," Harry said to them and starting to cry when he realized he had no choice and the words he had begged for had such a horrible price.

'_Fuck fate,'_ Harry cursed in his mind.

Lily opened her arms and Harry rose from his knees and started towards his mother with his own arms open.

"Wake up Harry," Remus said shaking Harry out of his sleep.

"NO!" Harry screamed then rounded on Remus with a right hook.

"FIVE MINUTES... I'VE NEVER EVEN SEE THEM IN ANYTHING OTHER THAN A PICTURE FOR FIVE MINUTES AND YOU _BLOODY_ WAKE ME UP!" Harry screamed as rolled off the bed and squat above Remus, holding the man by his collar and started to beat the living hell out of him.

"WHY!?" Harry screamed as he hit Remus again.

"Harr...," Remus spat out blood in-between the blows, trying to raise his own arms in some sort of defense.

"TELL ME BLOODY FUCKING WHY!?" Harry screamed again and hit Remus hard enough to knock him out before the older mans legs wrapped around him and threw him off.

"WHY!?" Harry screamed towards the ceiling as he rose from Remus. "TELL ME WHY! I NEVER WANTED THIS... I NEVER WANTED ANY OF THIS... TAKE IT BACK... PLEASE!"

"I don't want this... please... take it back," Harry whispered and slumped to the floor next to Remus.

There was no response, from Remus or otherwise and the silence was too much for Harry to bear any longer.

"**_I DON'T WANT IT!_**" Harry released one final scream.

With Harry's primal scream the very room warped... the windows exploded... the furniture was set afire... and Remus' body was thrown clear across the room away from him.

"Merlin! What in the name of the god's was that?" Mafalda Hopkirk asked her second when she ran from her office down the hall at the sound of the E.A.M. alarm being initiated.

"I don't know ma'am, all we know for a fact is it was accidental magic," the young man named Ian Banhurst replied. "But look at the reading, that can't be right, can it?"

"Where was it reported coming from?" Mafalda asked her second.

"You're not going to like that either," Ian said noticing the look of anger crossing his boss' face when she came in at the sound of the E.A.M.

"Well?" Mafalda asked impatiently and crossing her arms across her chest.

"We don't know?" Ian said cringing in expectance of some sort of attack.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Mafalda asked quickly.

"We don't know where it came from, best guess is somewhere un-plottable."

"YOUR BEST GUESS!?"

"Yes ma'am," Ian said and cringed again this time fully expecting a curse or hex his way.

Harry was just sitting in the middle of the room hugging his knees to his chest. He wasn't crying, he just sat there staring at the fire that was about to go out when it consumed the last of his bedroom's sofa.

Remus was somewhere close to the fireplace and Harry knew he was safe from the fire, just unconscious and lying there, and at the time Harry couldn't find the sense to go over and revive him. His knuckles were bare and bleeding from the skin tore off by Remus' face, causing his hands to shake against his own volition.

Remus lied on his right side, his first conscious thought at the sudden onslaught of pain coming from his head was, _'What the hell?' _

He lost consciousness again with that thought.

James, wanting to see what was taking so long with Remus waking Harry appeared in his portrait in Harry's destroyed bedroom to find his son entranced and one of his best friend's lying on his side unconscious.

Speaking in a calm but forceful voice to bring Harry out of his apparent stupor, "Harry, what happened here? What happened to Remus? What happened to you?"

Harry changed his focus from the charred sofa and looked up at the portrait of his father, and just stared.

James asked again but slowly, worried that Harry was not in control, "Harry what happened?"

All James was given was, "I had you both, and he took you from me."

James looked down at Harry expecting him to explain more.

Harry reclaimed his constitution and wiped the tear tracks from his cheeks then summoned his wand.

Pointing his wand at Remus Harry said, "_Integro Maxilla Oris, Redintegrare Facies._"

James turned his attention from Harry's spell casting to the subject of the spell and watched as Remus' facial bones were first healed and rest and then the rest of his face was completely restored to its previous state before whatever had assaulted it.

Harry stuck his wand in the waist band of his white silk pajama bottoms spotted with blood and spoke while watching the still unconscious form of Remus, "I was talking to mum... and, you were there, and I wasn't planning on leaving. I was about to touch her... then Remus shook me."

Remus regained conscious again, remembering his last attempt he was slightly nervous but when only the dull ache of a bruise was all he felt he rolled onto his back with a groan. One leg stretched out while the other was bent at the knee, his arms flailed out to his sides and his head titled back slightly while his mind attempted to rationalize why he had been taken completely unaware and off guard by Harry's unprovoked attack and had taken Harry's wrath.

James looked from Harry to Remus and then back to his son.

"Harry it was just a dream."

"NO! I don't know what it was, but it wasn't a dream," Harry responded and then answered the question forming in his father's mind before it was spoke. "This wasn't Riddle."

"You know this for a fact?" James asked skeptically.

Numb to the skepticism he was receiving Harry answered honestly, "No, there was no pain and all my mental shields haven't even been touched."

James sighed, happy with Harry's explanation and looked to Remus stirring near the fireplace still, "Take the day off son, but practice while you're out."

Harry wasn't entirely happy with his own answer though. He was skeptical of how assured he was that it was not another attempt by Riddle. There had been no pain, no stinging of his scar- why would Voldemort try to show him that dream anyway; what did he have to gain? The house and all its wards; Harry and all his training should be enough to prevent even Riddle from entering his mind as Albus himself could not find his mind here. Had Voldemort found someway to reestablish the link between them through all of these defenses? The dream spawned too many questions, and Harry couldn't bring himself to care about anything more than being so close and hoping that tonight they might return.

Harry walked over to Remus and said, "_Enervate_," while waving his hand towards the older man and giving him the energy to full open his eyes and function.

Remus opened his eyes, raises his head up and groaned when he saw Harry. He decided right there that it wouldn't matter if he raised his own defense and simply let his head fall back onto the floor with a thud and asked, "Mind telling me what all of that was about?"

"Sorry," Harry said and offered his hand to Remus to help him stand.

Remus took Harry's hand and they used each other to stand and he said, "Thanks."

"The least I can do," Harry said softly and looking into his mentor's eyes.

"Do I want to know?" Remus asked hoping this time his question about the assault on him would be answered.

Harry brought his left hand behind his head and entwined his fingers with his hair looking sheepish, "Probably... but I'm sorry, Prongs can fill you in later. I don't feel much like talking about it."

Remus looked at Harry in what could almost be described as completely disbelieving and then to James who just nodded, but there must have been a good reason for what happened so he dropped it and told Harry to get changed for this morning's circuit; they could discuss it in the gym better than...

'_WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED HERE!?'_ Remus screamed in his own head with his eyes widening when they focused on Harry.

"Sorry... again, I was just given the day off."

'You've got time for a run don't you?' Remus asked.

'_Just go away Moony,'_ Harry thought to himself, still checking his mental defenses and surveying what he did to his bedroom.

"Not this morning Moony," Harry said with a look pleading for Remus to just let him be.

Remus caught the look, graciously nodded and left the room leaving Harry to himself.

James spoke up once Remus had left the room, "You should be the one to explain this to him."

Harry didn't even take his attention from the door that had just closed behind Moony, "I know, just... not now."

Harry didn't have to see his father's portrait to know that James had nodded in agreement with him.

"I'll need to see you later tonight Harry," James said to a now despondent Harry.

Harry shook himself and turned to face his father again, "Yes sir."

"I'll have Tory bring you up something to eat," James said as he left the portrait in Harry's room.

Harry wasn't paying attention to what his father was saying as his mind was preoccupied with what he was going to be doing today.

He took an exceptionally long shower, mulling over the meaning of his dream while the hot water cascaded around him easing his nerves.

'_Fuck fate,'_ he thought more than once while the water scalded his back.

He dressed in elegant black wizarding robes, tied his hair black with a silver ribbon and disapparated to the apparation port at Diagon Alley.

Harry's first stop was to his mail drop which Tory had seen to for him. There he retrieved the massive amount of post he had received over the summer; under the guise of a personal representative sent by Mr. Potter on this errand. After the clerk sorted them for an additional charge, Harry found that only twenty three letters were actual pieces of post he cared to read; as the rest were threats and curses waiting to be opened and activated.

"You should let Mr. Potter know that he's got a couple of bags in the back as well," the clerk informed Harry after handing over the mail Harry had chosen to take.

"Sorry?" Harry asked, watching as the clerk took the unwanted mail and placed them into the proper bins labeled- **'THREATS'**, **'CURSES'**, **'HEXES'**.

The clerk turned back to Harry after dropping the pieces of post into their proper slots, "seems that Mr. Potter can't be found in the muggle world, unless you count Hogwart's of course. The owl's that couldn't find him dropped his mail here; it's been piling up for ages."

'_A letter would have been nice every once in a while at the Dursley's, even if I didn't know why I was getting them,'_ Harry thought, annoyed that he had also been denied those letters.

"I'll let him know. I'm sure he'll send me back to collect them later, or he'll send an elf," Harry said with a small smile and outstretched his hand to thank the clerk. "Mr.?"

The clerk looked somewhat embarrassed and took Harry's hand, "McClaggan, Bruce McClaggan."

"Thanks Mr. McClaggan," Harry said turning to leave the post office.

"Anytime… say hi to Mr. Potter for me," Bruce shouted from behind the counter as Harry left without looking back.

Harry walked the alley enjoying the freedom of not being recognized but still thinking of another thing that had been denied him; and this for no other reason that Harry could find than to not upset his relatives.

He stopped in front of what used to be Gambol and Japes Joke Shop, but was now a restaurant. Harry decided that this would be just as good as going to the Leaky Cauldron and entered hoping to find a quiet table where he could go over his mail.

Harry looked around the podium where he was sure the maitre'd was supposed to be, "Hello?"

"Oh, hello there," a pretty young witch with dark brown hair said popping up from behind the podium. "How many?"

"Just one," Harry said.

"Follow me please," she said turning on her heel and disappearing around the corner.

Harry followed her around the corner and then up a flight of stairs to a table seated right in front of the window overlooking the alley below and offering a view of most of the residential area as well. He finally got a look at her name tag, "Thank-you Ellen."

"Not a problem sir, enjoy your meal," she responded with a smile and disapparated with a loud crack.

Just as Harry was sitting down there was another crack, and a different witch appeared next to his table.

"What can I get you to drink sir?" she asked congenially.

"Pumpkin juice please," he responded accepting the menu she handed to him.

The waitress left to retrieve his beverage and Harry set the menu off to the side, then he opened the first letter he pulled out of his inside robe pocket.

Mister Harry James Potter

Cc: Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

_Dear Mister Potter:_

_Let us first express our deepest most sincere apologies… _

Harry didn't even finish the sentence when he tossed the piece of parchment onto the plate that would have been used if Harry had been there with another person.

He pulled the rest of the letters from his pocket and set the stack next to the right side of his plate, then picked up the next piece of mail marked from…

**M.o.M**

'_No,' _Harry cursed the ministry not even bothering to break the seal and read what they wrote.

His personal sentiments towards certain key politicians of the current Ministry of Magic's higher offices held no weight when innocent witches, wizards and muggles were put at risk because of his personal feelings.

'_Politics,'_ he muttered in disgust and threw the letter onto the plate with the other letter.

The waitress returned with his drink and spotted the endearment at the top of the Daily Prophet's open letter and she then she looked at Harry, "Are you…?"

"Yes," Harry answered looking to her and then finally picking up the menu.

"You don't look like him, I saw a photo of Harry Potter in the Daily Prophet earlier this summer and you don't look a thing like him," she stated upset that someone would claim to be THE Harry Potter and stealing his mail no less.

Harry looked back up at her from the menu and blinked, lowering his mental projection and allowing her to see the Harry Potter she thought she knew. Harry blinked again when the waitress brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp of surprise, and raised the projection once more.

Now focused on the menu instead of the girl, Harry said, "Shepherds Pie, with Treacle Tart for pudding."

A single serving of shepherds pie appeared on his plate, with the tart on a separate but smaller plate off the right and up a bit from the main course.

The waitress smiled at him and held out her hand expectantly.

Harry gave the girl a small polite smile and handed the girl his menu saying, "Thank-you."

He noticed that the server beamed at him for showing interest and then opened his napkin to retrieve his fork as she disappeared. He took a bite of his food, experiencing euphoria at food that contained taste, and then set the fork down while he opened the next letter.

To his chagrin the next fifteen letters were all from foreign ministries: Spain, Australia, Denmark, Jordan, Liechtenstein, Luxemburg, Andorra, Sardinia and Burkina Faso… this list went on; Harry had not even heard of some of the countries requesting an audience with him.

There were even a few of the letters that had been sent on behalf of the ruling family than ran the ministry with marriage proposals for their daughter's. Harry couldn't imagine why they were also sending lists of family holdings and their wealth along with these proposals, especially when each lacked a single photo of the proposed girl.

Harry set the marriage proposals aside thanking Merlin that as Harry's wizard guardian Albus hadn't promised him to one. He finished his shepherd's pie and moved onto the next two letters, which had been sent by Neville and Luna.

Neville had written to express his gratitude for Harry's help the previous term, as it had helped his Grandmother to see him in a new light; not the bumbling boy squib she had previously seen him as. He mentioned his father's broken wand and his _'Gran'_ taking him to have it replaced; where Ollivander informed him that many of his problems with magic at school had been caused by using an improper wand- as his father's was not suited to him. Neville's new wand, which he wrote he couldn't wait for Harry to get a look at next year during D.A. sessions, was made of Yew with a griffin talon core.

Harry was pleased that Neville was doing so well this summer and that his grandmother had a change of attitude. From the way that Neville was writing, it appeared that Harry was not the only one to make a few changes, as the letter was written with a good amount of confidence.

Luna's letter, rather her written dictation of random thoughts, had mainly informed him that she and her father had recently returned from Sweden on their expedition; they were unsuccessful in locating and capturing the elusive Crumple Horned Snorkack. She changed topics as quickly as she would make a comment to someone and then disappear behind her Quibbler, and Harry was more than happy to sit and read about absolutely nothing to learn so much about his friend. Luna finished her letter with returning to the main subject and informing him that they had been mislead in thinking that the Crumple Horned Snorkack's natural habitat was in Sweden, rather than its true home in Norway.

Harry added Luna's letter to the pile of finished post with traces of a truly genuine smile on his face, he laughed silently to himself when he found himself turning the envelope upside down in order to see if she had sent him a butterbeer cap because of the indentation of the spiked cap on the parchment of her letter, and found none.

The first of the remaining four pieces of post had been from the Ministry again only the label on the parchment read…

M.o.M.

**Magical Games and Sport **

Mister Harry James Potter

Cc: Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

**Mr. Potter:**

This notice is being sent to inform you that, in accordance with Education Decree number 25, passed by former Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic Dolores Umbridge and former High Inquisitor of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which your life-time ban of Quidditch has been recorded with the Ministry of Record's.

Subject to the stipulations of Education Decree number 25, a life-time ban on the sport of Quidditch can not be enforced. The High Inquisitor had only instated herself to, 'have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions, and removals of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members.' As the decree is only applicable to students of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry your ban will only be enforced while you remain a student at the aforementioned educational institution.

However, the validity of the decree's written by former Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic and former High Inquisitor of Hogwarts Dolores Umbridge and passed by the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge have come under debate with the High Court of Wizengamot overseeing the Minister's exercise of power not afforded him in the current charter for establishing powers and responsibilities for the offices of the Ministry of Magic- England. Should you so wish, you may contest the current ban on your ability to play Quidditch while attending Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Should you choose not to contest, said ban will remain in place until the time that you have graduated or left Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

**William Basil,**

Interim Department Head of Magical Games and Sport

'_I thought Bagman ran that department?'_ Harry asked himself as he set the letter down. _'I know what I'm doing after lunch now anyway.'_

The second to last letter had come from Fred and George, the assortment of different inks used to label the parchment letter had given it away when Harry had first spotted it at the post office. It was actually from their business instead of just a letter from Ron's brothers, **Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes**.

Harry decides to put the letter back into his robes pocket for later. Even though the clerk at the post office, Bruce, had scanned it for anything dangerous he wouldn't put it past them to _'charm'_ the letter in a completely _'innocent'_ way.

The next letter came from Neville again. Only the parchment the envelope was made of was coloured completely black and extremely foreboding- Harry reached out with senses to see if there was something more to this letter, some sort of subterfuge that Mr. McClaggan had missed.

Harry didn't find anything wrong with the letter, but still opened it defensively; expecting and unexpected curse to have been delivered under the guise of a friend's name.

Opening the letter and unfolding the parchment still nothing had happened and Harry slightly relaxed, remembering without thinking what had happened to Hermione during their fourth year and her encounter with post-curses.

Harry,

I don't know if you'll get this, as you haven't responded to my previous letter. My Grandmother was murdered last night during a death eater raid... I am hoping that you will stand with me at the send off at the end of this week.

I don't know who else to ask other than Luna, Ron, Ginny, Hermione and yourself.

Neville.

'_How long ago had this happened?'_ Harry wondered as he frantically checked the letter for a date.

Harry quickly rechecked all the letters he had received and found that all of them had only been delivered within the past week. Then it dawned on him that no mail could have been delivered to him prior to setting up the drop, and the owls must have returned to their owners unsuccessful, but then when Tory re-opened the drop for him the owls simply redirected the mail there.

'_Did Albus insure that letters to me this summer weren't to be left with the post office?'_ Harry asked himself coming up at a loss for an explanation as to how his post problem came about and worked out.

Harry slipped Neville's letter into the inside pocket of his robes and moved on to the last letter he had, which was from Hogwarts.

The standard letter asked him to pick his classes immediately and was signed by Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.

Harry conjured a quill and quickly checked off the courses listed that he was eligible to attend this coming term and then slid that letter into the inside of his robes as well.

Finished his Treacle tart and the rest of his pumpkin juice, he paid for the meal and left.

Harry placed the unwanted letters in a bin outside the restaurant and cast an _'incendio'_ on them, watching to make sure they were completely ash before he left for the post office once more.

Once back at the post office he rented two owls. One he sent directly away with his response to Hogwarts, and the other he had wait for a few moments while he wrote a quick but sincere reply to Neville assuring him that he would be there for the sending to stand next to his friend. Harry then sent the bird on its way.

Back out in the alley Harry wandered again for a bit, thinking of the attack on Neville and his Grandmother; he needed a copy of the Daily Prophet to see what he had missed. He received a few odd stares from those who thought they recognized him as someone else and pointed him out, but he paid it no heed and continued musing to himself about the future and what it held in store.

Harry found himself sitting on a bench outside of Madam Malkin's just watching the customers come and go, some noticing him and saying hello, but most avoiding him- content to just stare from a distance and question everything they had been told.

Harry had been lost in his own thoughts for what must have been at least two hours before he was approached by a team of aurors; more specifically order members. Tonks and Kinglsey Shacklebolt were curious to know why Harry Potter was just sitting on a bench in the middle of the day in Diagon Alley; where anyone could come up and attack him.

"Harry?" Tonks asked surprised beyond all belief that Harry was simply sitting in the middle of Diagon Alley. This also struck the two members pride again as it was part of the job Dumbledore assigned them to protect Harry, although Harry seemed to be deeply concerned about something other than his own safety at the moment.

"Earth to Harry, you there Harry," Tonks said waving her hand in front of Harry's unblinking eyes.

Kingsley was keeping watch on all the wizards around while Tonks was trying to communicate with Harry.

Harry blinked out of his private thoughts and looked straight at Tonks and asked, "Why don't you just wave your arms in the air while your at it and scream my name for everyone to hear?"

"I don think she needs to," Kingsley said not looking at Harry but at the rest of the crowd that was watching Harry and the two aurors and trying to make it seem like they weren't.

"You two are the only ones around her that can see who I really am," Harry replied light heartedly. "Confused?"

"Uhm, yeah," Tonks replied completely missing how Harry was concealing himself.

"Good," Harry said without any discernable tone. "What are you two doing here?"

"You're dissembling," Shacklebolt muttered, still looking around the alley.

"Patrol for the ministry," Tonks responded cheekily to try and snap Harry out of his stupor.

"Job well done," Severus Snape said appearing behind Tonks and in-between her and Kingsley- neither of them knew he had been there.

Harry had seen him coming, noting how easy it was for him to slip past the two aurors.

When Snape's eyes met his, the older man was sure that Harry would have said something to the aurors but was surprised when he surreptitiously raised an eye brow and let the show play out.

Harry clapped his hands when both Tonks and Kingsley spun in surprise to see Severus standing in-between them, sneering at both of them for being completely incompetent.

"Taking lesson's Potter?" Severus hissed.

Tonks and Kingsley both shared a look asking each other silently, _'What the hell are these two doing in Diagon Alley in broad daylight?'_

Harry smiled in an effort to bait Severus, "Excellent projection."

Severus recoiled, but only Harry had seen the minute movements he had made; although Harry wasn't sure if Kingsley had noticed as he made no biting comment.

Harry apparated from a sitting position to behind Severus before the potions master could blink. He grabbed a handful of greasy black hair and kicked out the man's knee, bringing him to the ground and exposing his neck.

Thankfully the crowd at Diagon Alley did not see the interaction between the four people as the main event was shielded by the bodies of Auror's on patrol.

"Just thinking…" Harry breathed in deeply mocking the older man, "… just thinking."

Harry pulled the older man to his feet by his hair with no sound being made by Severus- his pride too great to make a sound for Voldemort and definitely too great for Harry Potter; and released him.

Severus whirled around his wand at the ready, "How dare you," he hissed.

"I'm glad my father saved your life." Harry stated stonily, catching Severus off-guard.

Severus wanted to show shock but years of emotionally staidness protected him.

Tonks and Shacklebolt looked at each other questioningly and then the rest of the crowd that still seemed to be oblivious. Shacklebolt nodded to Tonks, who reached into her pocket unnoticed by Harry and Severus and activated a summoning beacon for Albus.

"This is really unnecessary," Harry said crossing his arms across his chest in defiance to Severus' apparent threat.

"Afraid… Potter?" Severus asked keeping his wand raised.

Harry smirked, "Now I know who else he gets it from."

Harry looked at the two confused aurors and said one name as if it was completely obvious what he was thinking about, "Draco."

"What is the meaning of this?" Albus Dumbledore interrupted Harry's explanation.

People stopped going about their business and turned to see why it was that Albus Dumbledore had just appeared in Diagon Alley.

Albus quickly removed his wand from the inside pocket of his right sleeve and cast an _'Illusio' _charm to conceal their actions from the public.

Severus lowered his wand and turned towards Albus, "Headmaster, Potter physically attacked me."

"Again," Harry added cheekily; also turning his attention to the headmaster.

Albus Dumbledore fought the urge to laugh at Harry's attempt at defiant humour.

"Ms. Tonks, Mr. Shacklebolt, would you care to explain?"

"Well ya see Professor," Tonks started, "Snape 'ere snuck up behind us and…"

Kingsley cut her off in an attempt to be more diplomatic than he was sure Tonks would have been, "commented on our surveillance skills of Diagon Alley, and then young Harry here decided to comment physically on Snape's own surveillance skills. We're not entirely sure why Harry and Severus are here in the first place."

Harry happy to have this distraction from the thoughts of this morning was more than willing to force this confrontation on and hopefully escalate it. He smiled and gave Kingsley a thumbs up for his accurate description of what had transpired between the student and professor on holiday.

Snape had replaced his wand to the holster he had attached up his right robe sleeve and also looked pleased that the auror had not immediately sided with Potter.

Albus looked between Harry and Severus for a sign as to which way this should proceed. He shouldn't even have been here; this was not a matter for him to have been directly involved with as he had more pressing matters back at the Ministry today.

"Miss Tonks, if you would be so kind in the future as to remember that that beacon you carry is for an emergency only," Albus also looked pointedly at Kingsley.

Harry looked to both the Auror's and made a mental note that they were now carrying emergency beacon's, as well as whatever else Fred and George had invented for the order.

"There are more pressing matters to be dealt with, and I would appreciate it if the two of you," Albus said looking at Harry and Severus with disappointment- neither seemed affected, "would remember that you are on the same side."

Harry cut in as soon as he was done and turned to look at Severus, "For now."

As scathingly as he could muster after Harry's cutting and extremely foreboding remark that seemed more fitting of the dark lord than a sixteen year old boy, "What is the meaning of that?"

Harry turned away from the potions master with a menacing grin instead of explaining himself.

"Do not," Severus venomously started, "… presume to think I will be baited by a child."

Harry only continued to smile as it seemed to incense the man more than words would have accomplished.

Albus ended this as soon he found Harry had discovered an even more direct path to incensing Severus, "Harry, a word."

Harry turned his attention away from Severus and fought the thought sitting on the end of his tongue to say, _'Only one?'_

"Of course," Harry said shaking off his momentary Slytherin side.

He was loathe to play his Slytherin side, as it made him feel unclean. Any longer and he was sure that he would have cracked and resorted to attacking physically.

Harry and Albus put a good distance between themselves and Snape, Kingsley and Tonks before speaking.

"Harry this must end between Professor Snape and yourself, you are fighting for the same cause," Albus said forcefully and putting a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"You may trust him, but I don't. I never have and I never will. I do not know what evidence you have to support yourself in trusting him, but until you're willing to share…" Harry left the statement hanging for Albus to fill it in for himself.

"Aren't you needed at the Ministry?" Harry asked.

Albus looked thoughtful, "There is no changing this Harry?"

"He has done nothing to change my opinion, what does he do for you now in the first place? He can not return to Riddle without being killed on sight, so what does he do; operate out of Knockturn Alley and report any _rumours_ he hears back to you and the order?" Harry asked.

'_Operate,'_ Albus noted the way he spoke and filed it away as another thought on what Harry had been doing this summer.

Not really wanting an answer he knew already, Harry changed the subject hoping to find out what was happening at the Ministry, "What are you doing at the Ministry today?"

"Harry, have you not read the Daily Prophet?" Albus asked almost shocked.

Snape, Kingsley and Tonks were all looking at the interaction taking place between Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter.

Harry tilted his head up slightly to meet the eyes of Dumbledore asking him silently if he really just asked if the boy who had been ridiculed and verbally hung by the public read the rag that committed those acts.

"Forgive me; I understand your reluctance to read that particular periodical. However Harry, information is information even if you have to read between the lines on occasion," Albus said, a twinkle in his eye and then he lowered the _'Illusio'_ charm and apparated back to his meeting at the Ministry.

Harry's natural curiosity came into full effect and he wandlessly summoned an issue of the Daily Prophet from the nearest bin. The issue had been a few days old, but the headline could not have hit Harry harder than Remus taking him unnoticed.

HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-NAMED RETURNS TO WIZARDING WORLD WITH FIRST STRIKE!

There was a photo beneath the headline of an old mansion missing the entire left side of the building, smoke still billowed from the rubble that was still on fire and the rest of the smoldering building was having the fire put out by Magical Reversal Squad Officials.

The description below the photo read…

Prominent Pureblood Families First to be Struck

Harry reasoned these must have been the families unwilling to side with Riddle or the Ministry. He had heard from his father of the old wizarding families that had no need to be entwined in the battles raging for Pureblood Supremacy, as they were secure in their position no matter what the outcome.

Then the thought hit him, "Neville!"

"Harry only had to look at the article once to take in all the pertinent information, Longbottom Estate was the first to be attacked three nights ago, sequentially the

MacDougal Estate, the Zabini Estate, Gentry Castle, Kettering Castle, all of the Tiberion Estates- as well as Snape Castle.

'_That's what the greasy git is doing here,'_ Harry thought about Snape being out of Knockturn Alley.

Harry binned the paper once more and walked over the two aurors, "Snape head to the Ministry?"

Tonks touched her nose and Harry nodded in return.

Harry disapparated after having his suspicion confirmed by Tonks, leaving behind a couple of confused Auror's who set about discussing between themselves what kind of concealment Harry and Severus had been using.

Once past the ministry's apparation check-in point- Harry was thought for a moment they were going to ask him to produce a license, but they had let him pass- and he found himself standing in front of a completely refurnished reception hall. The fountain of _'Magical Brethren'_ had been completely re-sculpted back to its original magnificent form, and everything else that had been destroyed or transfigured had been returned to its original state as well. The only thing there that had not been repaired was him, and he found it funny to think that all of this could be fixed so easy.

Harry queued up in a line waiting to be checked in by the wizarding guard; he was fifth in line.

After a short wait in line and the sudden quiet that grew when people would suddenly recognize him as Harry Potter and not the man he had been leading them all to see previously and start their huddled conversations Harry was at the head of the queue.

Once in the Ministry of Magic Harry found that he had no desire to hide who he was, and lowered the projection he was sending out; walking with his head held high.

"Name and nature of your visit to the Ministry of Magic on this day August 16th, 1997," the bored security guard asked, Harry thought he looked familiar and was possible the same guard from his previous visit to the ministry last summer.

"Harry James Potter, Deliberations Committee on the Recent Pureblooded Wizard Attacks," Harry said forcefully.

Eric, as the security guard's badge read, had heard this response all day; the only difference was the significance of the name.

'_It is the same guard from last year,'_ Harry thought when he finally got a good enough look at the man.

"Excuse me… er… Mr. Potter," Eric said now standing and taking the bow he reserved for very few that passed through the Ministry.

Harry tilted his head in respect for Eric's own bow, earning a smile from the security guard.

The rest of the queue behind Harry watched eagerly at the interaction between the most popular wizard in the entire world and the simple security guard who earned a bow in return.

Eric quickly ran the golden rod up and down the length of Harry's form, finding nothing and said, "Yes sir, the committee is meeting in room 4 on the 6th floor."

"Thank-you," Harry said passing through the check point and taking a right towards the elevators that would take him to the appropriate floor.

The elevator doors opened on the 6th floor and Harry stepped out of the elevators to find there were only a few witches and wizards waiting in the hallway. The all appeared to be upper class given from the state of their dress and Harry assumed that all of them were here for the deliberations, although Harry was only looking for Neville.

Harry found Neville right across from the doors leading into Room 4 sitting next to a very broken looking Blaise Zabini.

"Hello Neville," Harry said breaking the boy out of his own private thoughts.

Neville looked up through bloodshot eyes and being able to recognize Harry anywhere pulled him into a brotherly hug.

Harry responded hoping to help Neville and hugged his friend in return in his time of mourning.

"I just heard, I'm sorry Neville, really, I am," Harry said conjuring a chair and sitting front of Neville and Blaise.

"Thanks Harry," Neville responded although his voice was devoid of any of the previous boyishness and uncertainty it had once possessed.

"I mean it, if there's anything I can do," Harry started.

"Thanks again, but there's nothing that anyone can do, and if it hadn't been for you I wouldn't even be here today," Neville said staring at the floor.

Harry was floored by what Neville had said, he shouldn't have been, he had gone through the same thing with Hermione… and it was his fault that Neville had come with him to the Department of Mysteries that night.

Harry didn't say anything and Neville instantly regretted what he said and spoke quickly when he looked up and saw the look in Harry's eye, "That not what I meant Harry, sorry, what I meant is that I wouldn't be alive…" and then Neville went very cold with his tone in an effort not to feel the emotions connected with that night.

"No one's told me how they did it yet Harry, I mean bypassed all the wards and gotten in, but once they did, they came in and killed my gran in her sleep. At least I can be thankful for that, they didn't torture her into madness as well… just outright killed her; no pain right?" Neville asked looking at Harry for confirmation since he had been the only one to survive the killing curse.

Harry responded quickly with the answer he knew Neville wanted to hear, "Right, no pain."

"After they killed her, I guess they assumed the manor was empty and just started destroying it; that's what woke me up. I sent our owl with a message to the Aurors, but it didn't get there in time and I ended up having to run for it. A few broken bones, no serious curses though, and I got two of them when three cornered me… I thought that was it and I stunned one and full body bound another, and then the aurors showed up and helped fight them off, but the estate was already half gone and most of the death eater scum had apparated away to another target that night." Neville said tilting his towards Blaise.

"You alright mate?" Harry asked knowing it was a stupid question.

Neville gave him a knowing smile, "I will be when this is all over with Harry."

Neville and Harry had both lost their parents for the same reason, Neville just didn't know about it. Now the last of Neville's family was gone and he was just like Harry and Harry couldn't help feeling guilty that he had wished once that everything that had happened to him had happened to Neville instead.

"Do you need a place to stay?" Harry asked.

'Thanks, but I'm all set, the manor's been rebuilt and Professor Dumbledore has been out with a team of aurors to fix the wards and install some new ones."

'_Order members,'_ Harry thought when Neville spoke of Albus arriving with a team of Aurors.

Harry had an idea and asked, "Do you mind if I drop by your place soon, I might have something you're interested in."

"There's only one thing I'm interested in Harry and you know what that is," Neville replied coolly.

It was like seeing a mirror of his own emotions from when the summer started when Harry looked at Neville now; it was uncanny and disconcerting.

"Then you won't mind."

Neville gave him a small smile because of the thought that he would have retribution for his whole family. He knew Harry had something to do with all of this, and eventually he would be there when it was all said and done, something just told him this, but he didn't know what part Harry had to play.

Harry turned his attention to a still crying Blaise, knowing he had absolutely no idea how to talk to her when she was in this state. Hermione had attacked him and then fallen asleep, and Cho had run away; crying women he had no problem admitting he was bad with.

"She's the same as us Harry," Neville said seeing that Harry didn't know what to say.

Neville's explanation to Harry only seemed to make Blaise cry harder than before.

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, and she felt the same warmth that Hermione felt when he touched her and started to relax her shoulders.

Blaise lifted her head and looked through the matted auburn locks of hair in front of her eyes at Harry.

They did not speak words as neither knew what to say to the other. Harry being the Gryffindor beacon of light and Blaise being the Slytherin Pin-Up, but they both understood the feeling of loss and that was enough to calm Blaise and stave off the tears.

Blaise brought her hand that was covered in an oversized grey wool jumper and wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks and sniffed lightly.

Harry noticed that she really was quite pretty, and imagined if she was cleaned up that she would be the epitome of every rumour he had heard being said about her.

Harry looked intently at her, and Blaise seemed to acquiesce and moved over to make space for him between Neville and herself. Harry moved in-between them and Blaise placed her head on his shoulder and drifted off to sleep after almost 65 hours of insomnia after losing both her parents, her younger brothers who were twins and about to start at Hogwarts this term, her aunt and uncle that had been visiting that day, along with their children- her cousins, and with the recent loss of her grandmother the year before… she was the sole living Zabini. She wanted to laugh that she was sleeping with her head rested on the shoulder of THE Harry Potter; although she felt kinship towards him as well as Neville- they were all now related in this current war through the same act; something she did not know where it would take her and at the moment could not care about.

Neville couldn't help but smirk at the current situation.

'_Harry's comforting a Slytherin,'_ Neville thought hoping to be able to use this as teasing material one day when he had the need for it and the want.

"Are you going to be alright here alone?" Harry asked Neville quietly.

"Yeah, this whole thing is just a committee on what should be done. We all were summoned here to give testimony for the record."

"Alright, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," Harry whispered.

"Thanks mate," Neville said offering his hand and wearing a somber expression.

Harry took his hand and restricted his own strength in doing so to actually shake Neville's hand like an equal, like the boy that almost had to deal with everything Harry was going through.

"You mind?" Harry asked smiling and pointing towards a sleeping Blaise.

"No worries," Neville said sliding into Harry's spot as Harry held Blaise' head until Neville was in place and the lowered it to his shoulder.

"What'll Ginny think?" Harry asked mockingly knowing this would lighten the somber mood.

Neville didn't even blink, "Whaddaya mean? I don't like Ginny."

Harry was caught off guard, "I thought you liked Ginny, because of the ball and everything?"

"Nah mate, Luna and I've been writing this summer, shite, do you mind telling her where I've been?"

"I'd be happy to," Harry said thinking that Luna wouldn't worry about anything, even if she was forced to.

"Besides Ginny likes you."

"What are you talking about? Never-mind, this isn't the time for that, sorry."

"Glad for the distraction Harry." Neville said with a smile.

Harry noted again how he himself was looking for the distraction with Snape earlier… uncanny.

"Right, I'll just go deliver your message to Luna then."

Harry turned to walk back the way he had come and was stopped when Neville called out for him quietly but loud enough for Harry to hear, "Thanks again, Harry."

Harry turned and gave Neville a smile, turned back and walked back through the doors he had come through to get here and back to the elevator.

Inside the elevator he looked for the button that would take him to the floor where the Department for Magical Games and Sport was located.

Harry pressed the button for the seventh level and waited for the lift to raise him one floor.

There was no one on the floor outside of the lift and Harry's shoes clicked on the white marble floor as he walked the distance to the double wooden door entrance to the offices of the Games Department.

Harry placed a hand on each of the handles the doors had and swung them open. Stepping in he saw that he had startled the young witch working as a clerk in this department.

Seeing that there was no queue or anyone already seated and waiting, Harry strode to the glass desk where the now nervous witch was waiting for the famous Harry Potter to come and talk to her.

"Hello," Harry said in a friendly voice to calm the girl down.

"Oh… er…yes, Hello, Mr. Potter." She stammered.

"I see you recognize me, so is it safe to assume you know why I'm here?" Harry asked smoothly.

"Uhm…" she responded then bit her lower lip.

"I'm here to have my life-time ban on Quidditch lifted."

She nodded and wrote a message on a piece of paper, pointed her wand it and muttered something Harry made sure to remember, and watched the note fold itself into a paper airplane and zoom into the back of the room to the appropriate wizard it was addressed to.

Regaining her composure she stated, "It'll only be a moment Mr. Potter."

"Harry is fine…Ms.?" he looked at her questioning for her name in return.

"Anna, Anna Trioble," she said smiling at him.

"Thank-you Anna," Harry responded and left to have a seat in the lobby of the Gaming Department.

"Harry Potter!" a shocked voice came from around the corner.

Harry rose from his seat and waited for the surprised voice to show the person it was attached to.

A small rotund and balding man came scurrying around the corner to meet Harry, holding his hands out hurriedly to shake his hands.

Harry offered his hand which was grasped in both of the man's pudgy fingered hands. Harry fought the idea of wearing a disgusted look and wiping whatever fluid covered the man's hands on his pant leg.

"I'm William Basil, acting department head, what can I do for you Mr. Potter?" he asked clearly proud of his title and meeting Harry.

"I'm here to contest my life-time ban on playing Quidditch," Harry stated with a no-nonsense attitude.

William Basil immediately took to Harry's attitude and responded in the same, "I am afraid, Mr. Potter, that you can only formerly contest the ban here. The actual decision you will have to take up with Headmaster Dumbledore at Hogwarts. Other than filing a few pieces of parchment there is nothing that can be done on our level except to redirect you there."

"I see," Harry said already planning what he would do.

Mr. Basil offered his apologies, but from the look of Harry he saw that they weren't really necessary. The young man seemed to be unfazed, "I am truly sorry Mr. Potter."

"Thank-you Mr. Basil, good-day to you," Harry said with a believable smile so he could avoid shaking the man's hands once more.

"Bye Harry," Anna called from behind her desk as Harry exited the Department- robes billowing behind him.

'_Press Corps, where would the Minister keep his press-corps_?' Harry was asking himself and then he saw Albus Dumbledore at the end of the opposing corridor followed closely by Minister Fudge, _'Brilliant!'_

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Albus said his eyes twinkling greatly.

Harry was starting to accept this as Albus' version of winking in a knowing fashion.

"What brings you here?" Albus asked.

"Well, the idiot behind you placed a moron at Hogwarts this previous term and some rather unfortunate pieces of legislation were passed as law and official decree," Harry said scathingly.

Harry had no problems with showing open disgust for the poor excuse of a man who had personally ensured his life remained a living hell last term.

"Ah, I see," Albus said stepping to the side and bringing Minister Fudge into clear view from where he was attempting to go back the other way down the hall. "Minister, would you care to comment."

"What… oh… yes… my former undersecretary, very unfortunate yes Harry," Fudge stammered.

"Mr. Potter," Harry glared at the bumbling fat man.

"Yes… of course… I see, Mr. Potter," Minister Fudge again stammered.

Harry did not even feel the smallest satisfaction at seeing the Minister of Magic flail in the presence of both himself and Albus who had clearly sided with Harry at the end of his fourth term. Instead he felt pity for the man.

Harry wondered silently, _'how can someone be so corrupted?'_

"Harry, the Minister and I were previously discussing many of the decrees that were passed during my tenure and after I was, well, asked to vacate my position as Headmaster."

Harry wanted to hit himself, this whole summer Albus held no position at Hogwarts, although clearly he had recovered his previous position now.

"We have agreed on all but your ban," Albus stated knowing that Harry would have wished to deal with this on his own now.

"I see. Why would there be any other decision to make other than to have this ridiculous ban lifted as it directly relates to Educational Decree number 25?" Harry asked pointedly.

"Mr. Potter, you did attack another student?" Albus asked still smiling.

"After he insulted my family, and impugned my honor- all of which came from the son of a very prominent Death Eater you consorted with so freely." Harry spat towards Fudge.

Minister Fudge was already Albus' puppet, and the mention of his familiarity with the Malfoy's was just another curse to be thrown at him.

"Consider your ban lifted," Minister Fudge announced.

"It is not your decision to make _Minister_," Harry scathingly replied. "It is the Headmaster's."

Fudge looked completely stupefied at Harry's remark.

"Consider your ban lifted Harry. Provided you do not attack another student, of course," Albus offered.

Harry didn't even look at the Minister instead he focused on Albus, "Thank-you Albus, I trust you'll also be taking care of the matter concerning the High Inquisitor's use of blood-quills?"

Albus had not known of this and showed true surprise to which Harry showed absolutely no concern.

Harry just lifted his hand to show the markings of _'I will not tell lies'_ etched into his skin and spoke, "I don't know how many others, but I know of at least one other. I didn't even know they were illegal at the time."

Albus turned to Minister Fudge and seemed to grow an extra foot, and glared menacingly down at the man before him.

Harry left before the painful altercation he was sure to take place occurred. He turned down an empty hall and attempted to apparate number 12 Grimmauld Place in search of Ginny. Harry was momentarily stunned as to why he was still in the main ministry building when the thought of anti- apparation wards came into his mind.

'_Idiot,'_ Harry cursed himself and started searching his robes for a portkey.

Harry couldn't find one that was destined for number 12, but instead reprogrammed one that was supposed to take him to the Ministry in the event of an emergency.

"Fudge," Harry said and disappeared.

He searched the kitchen first as he also wanted something to eat; the day so far had burnt off all the energy he had taken in from the shepherd's pie and treacle tart.

Harry fixed himself a cold chicken breast sandwich and sat at the island enjoying the silence and thinking of the stories his father, Sirius and Remus had told him revolved around this very house.

Harry was finishing the last bite of his sandwich when the very girl he was looking for came through the door looking rather happy.

"Hello Ginny," Harry said sending his plate to the sink where it began to wash itself under Mrs. Weasley's already emplaced charms.

"Harry!" Ginny all but screamed.

Harry looked sheepish at having scared Ginny, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just give me a minute," she said and brought her hand to her chest. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you actually?"

"And why are you looking for me," Ginny said getting her normal breathing pattern back under control.

"I need your help."

"What do you need my help for? From what Hermione's been telling me you seem to be pretty much self sufficient Harry."

"How is she?"

"Talking a lot. Ok I guess, the news about her father hit her hard though. She would have liked to have been there for the sending, but you know you did a great thing don't you?"

"What happened with her father? What sending?" Harry asked completely confused.

"The ministry gave him a ceremony since Hermione wasn't around, and her mum didn't have much to say… oh!" Ginny gasped and brought her hands to her mouth.

Harry shook his head sadly, "you're ok Gin."

"I shouldn't have said that," Ginny said looking downcast and ready to flee the room to apologize to Hermione.

"This is all my fault," Harry said putting his elbows on the island and propping his head up with his hands.

"No Harry it isn't, so don't think that. Hermione wouldn't have been in any state to arrange for a muggle funeral even if you hadn't gone to get her. She is having a cemetery plot bought on her father's behalf and she'll bury the remains and set up a headstone."

"I see."

Ginny smiled at seeing Harry cheer up slightly when he realized he hadn't completely made a mess of things by running off this summer and taking Hermione with him halfway in.

"Has she gotten everything else out?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ginny, you can't not blame her father and mothers' death on me. She was attacked because she was my friend and now she's paying for it, do you think I don't see that every time I look at her?"

"Harry," Ginny started and reached out and grasped the palm he had laid down on the island; she too felt the warmth spread through her at touching Harry, just as Hermione had described.

"It's alright Gin, I know its Riddle's fault," Ginny shudders at the mention of Voldemort's real name that used his old diary to possess her. "But I have my part in the blame for this as well, and Hermione needs to deal with that; something I couldn't help her with, that's why I'm glad she's got you now."

Ginny winked at Harry and gave him a small smile.

"I'm off topic anyway," Harry said looking into her eyes.

'_Why does he have to look at me that way now?'_ Ginny asked herself.

"Do you know where Luna lives? She lives near you in Ottery St. Catchpole right?"

Ginny went defensive for a moment, "Why do you want to know where _she_ lives?"

"Neville asked me give her a message," Harry said seeing the spark ignite in her eye and then go out almost as quickly as it had been lit. "Everything alright Gin?"

"Sorry, yeah everything's fine, is she seeing Neville now?" Ginny asked calming down.

"I don't really know, I spoke with him today at the Ministry and he told me they had been writing to each other over the summer while she was on her expedition in Sweden with her father. I'd say it's a fair bet he fancies her and she him."

Ginny gave a light smile and relayed the directions from the Burrow to Harry.

"Thanks Gin," Harry said and kissed her on the cheek before disapparating. "See you on the express, right?"

"Hmmm," Ginny thought out loud to the empty kitchen, questioning what she was going to do about Harry.


	15. You Can Never Really Go Back Home

**Chapter 15: The Start of Term **

"Ah, Harry… truly amazing," the voice spoke, resounding of the walls of Harry's mind.

"I suppose it was only a matter of time," Harry conceded, wondering about his surroundings.

Coldly, the voice spoke in turn, "Patience."

This was his mind, and even if Riddle had found a way in, he was at an advantage, "Eleven years of exile _would_ teach you about patience wouldn't it?"

Harry didn't need to see in order to know Riddle was smiling when he hissed, "I am not the only one who that statement applies to."

"I am nothing like you," Harry defiantly yelled to the darkness.

"YOU ARE EXACTLY LIKE ME!" Riddle spat condemningly, filling the darkness with his conviction.

"Get out," was all that Harry replied. He would not be baited.

The foreign voice calmed and said very softly, "Truly… amazing."

Harry instantly found himself no longer in the safety of the anonymity the darkness provided, but instead in a pure white room. There was nothing but the expanse of white light wherever he looked, and for one brief moment Harry thought that he was staring into the boundlessness of death; that was... until he was picked up and thrown across the expanse only to collide harshly with one boundary. He heard his ribs crack and felt blood erupt from his mouth and trail down his chin and neck.

"FOURTEEN YEARS!" Riddle's voice echoed through the expanse.

Harry's hands held the invisible grip around his neck, prying himself loose and falling to the floor.

"MY ENTIRE LIFE, YOU FUCK!" Harry roared with bared teeth turned pink from the film of blood.

Harry was picked up off the floor and suspended mid air once again held by the throat. His hands were bound to his sides and his legs locked together right before he was thrown across the room again and into another wall.

Harry smashed into the wall. Embedded in the solid surface that Riddle had created, his eyes popped open on impact and again blood spurted from him involuntarily. He was held in his imprint as Riddle asked in a sickeningly sweet voice, "The prophecy, if you would be so kind."

"Truly amazing," Harry moaned, trying to mock the demon.

Riddle chose that moment to appear in the room. He stood very still, very composed and topped off with what to him must have been a grin. He stalked towards Harry, never looking for an instant that he had even taken a step with his robes barely making any motion. And then, he stood before Harry and stretched out a hand running his forefinger down the side of his battered enemy's flushed face seeming for all intents to be appraising value. "Indeed."

Harry spat blood in Riddle's face in retort. Riddle made an attempt to disappear but Harry held him in place finally finding some control of his own in this tentative world.

"All a matter of time," Harry all but laughed in Riddle's face, as the pain is his body receded.

Harry fell to the floor with a thud. Almost as soon as he hit the floor he righted himself, already with wand in hand.

"The relic has been teaching you, I see," Riddle insulted with a smirk.

"Hardly," Harry replied not lowering his wand. "BARETH SEK!"

Riddle's eyes flashed surprise right before vanishing completely from Harry's mind.

Harry watched the spell fly through the vastness before beginning a systematic search of his mind. He found where Riddle had broken his defenses and settled down to study the infiltration; it had been too good to be true that even here at the manor, Riddle would be unable to locate him.

Harry was asleep in compartment fourteen of the Hogwarts Express. Hedwig perched happily on his shoulder. He had arrived early and the past two weeks were finally beginning to take their full toll, so with a mild ward placed around the door he closed his eyes in an attempt to drift off for a few minutes of peaceful rest.

The Aurors stationed on the platform inspecting each individual crossing the magical boundary, however, plagued his rest. It was a necessity he knew for the safety of the students, but it was discomforting to say the least. He wondered what it had been like during the first war for people.

Luna Lovegood was the first to enter the compartment Harry had claimed. She smiled cheerily at Harry before throwing her belongings in the overhead rack and taking a seat opposite him. He watched with concealed amusement when she manifested a Quibbler out of her back pocket and settled in to read.

Harry smiled at the periodicals cover, content to say nothing and enjoy the quiet companionship. He turned his attention away from Luna and stared out the window. The Aurors, gray skies and rain all seemed to fit Harry's mood perfectly; and when he saw Hermione, Ron and Ginny step onto the platform the bittersweet feeling was perfected.

As he was about to open the window and shout out a greeting towards the trio, Neville opened the compartment door and locked eyes with Harry for a split second- right before he slammed the door shut and stormed off angrily. Even Luna who never seemed to be affected by the current situation looked up quizzically at Harry. Harry slumped back into his seat instead of greeting his friends.

His sullen mood was to be short lived however when the ward he placed around the compartment was brought down and Hermione walked in, followed closely by Ginny and then Ron. Hermione grabbed Harry is a tight hug to which he was more than willing to reciprocate and then she stepped back and Ginny threw herself into Harry's open arms. He was caught off guard by the sudden embrace but grasped Ginny and twirled her around the tiny room- eliciting a small squeak and playful slap for his antics. Harry set Ginny down and pulled both Hermione and Ginny in close to him for a group hug and reached out for Ron. Ron, however, had second thoughts and remained outside of the group. Ron's stony disposition caused Harry to step away from the hug and stretch his hand out. Ron smirked and grabbed his hand but Harry pulled his friend into a one armed hug and patted him on the back soundly.

"Alright, Ron?" Harry asked with a smirk stepping back from his best friend.

"Poof," Ron snorted in laughter.

Harry placed an arm behind Hermione and Ginny who knew where he was going with his actions and looked at Ron pointedly, "I don't think so, mate."

Ron's mouth fell open and he started to stutter a response, but no one in the cabin besides him seemed to be able to contain themselves, and burst into insane laughter at the sight of the tall redhead's struggling.

Ron wasn't having any of it and decided to try his own hand at humor and sat down next to Luna and threw his arm around her shoulders, "Well, if you get those two then I get this one."

Luna started giggling madly. It seemed she found the most humor in the strangest of places.

Ginny and Hermione glared daggers at Ron who quelled under their gaze and removed his arm from around Luna and stood. He cleared his throat and said, "right, well then, we'd better get off to the prefects cabin, shouldn't we?"

"I'll see you in about a half," Hermione said turning away from Harry and opening her school trunk to retrieve a set of school robes and a prefect's badge.

Ginny who had just slipped her own robes over her denims and jumper turned to Luna, "Coming, Luna?"

Luna smiled wanly and nodded. She followed Ginny, Hermione and Ron all out of the cabin leaving Harry once again, alone.

"See you, then," Harry said to no one.

Harry left the compartment and was heading in the direction of the prefects lounge when he stepped into the loo just off to the side of the entrance. He was not so willing to leave many things to chance this year as he had in the past and now he was waiting for someone to show up, someone who would not be doing much of anything this year after Harry was through with him.

Still managing a proud air about him, but wearing less than the finest robes, Draco Malfoy walked the corridor alone with his head held high and a smug expression. No one would have been able to tell that this boy's father had been imprisoned and had the entire family's estate taken into ministry custody. The fact that the boy wasn't acting was something else altogether. Draco Malfoy still continued to firmly believe in his place at the height of wizarding hierarchy.

As Draco placed his hand on the handle to open the door to the prefects lounge, Harry pounced.

"Hello, Draco," Harry greeted, tilting his head to the side and eyeing his school nemesis.

Draco immediately was drawn to the attire the young wizard before him wore. He was admittedly impressed at whoever this was for his taste but just as quickly as the compliment almost escaped him the thought of the one who had stripped his own ability to indulge in such fashions entered the fore of his mind.

Draco didn't even have time to react as Harry's fist hit him square in the middle of the face. His nose shattered and the force of the blow forced him back several steps.

Harry grabbed Draco by the lapel of his robes and dragged him into the loo.

Draco slumped to his knees on the cold steel floor of the wash closet and looked up at his assailant through the hands cupped over his nose.

Harry soundlessly summoned the other boy's wand and snapped it in front of him. The pieces clattered on the riveted floor of the tiny room.

"Uhhh…." Draco mumbled through bloody hands that were holding his face when he saw his wand snapped.

Harry grabbed Draco's right arm and ripped the sleeve covering his forearm bringing into view the mark that he really did not want to find. It was strange to that he really wanted Draco to be nothing more than a school bully.

All the wanting in the world would do nothing for the blonde boy now. He was the property of Tom Riddle; a human being branded into service for idiotic ideals about blood purity- when ironically the very _'thing'_ spouting off the ideals wasn't even what he claimed was superior. Harry threw the limp arm back at the boy and stepped into the restroom while closing the door behind him before anyone heard or saw anything. Harry then removed his own wand from the holster attached to his left forearm and erected a privacy shield.

"Listen you little piece of shite," Harry declared.

Draco feebly tried to form a rebuttal.

"Don't try," Harry warned. "It's what you are, you and the rest of Tom's boot lickers. I should kill you here to get it over with."

Horror spread across Malfoy's already pained countenance.

"I hope you're grateful for this one day," Harry muttered, conjuring a small black case that he unzipped and removed a syringe from. The case was banished back to the manor where he had called it from and squatted down in front of a now struggling Draco Malfoy.

"Nnnn… nnn… no, ddd… dd… ddon't, wha…" Draco sputtered, trying to resist Harry Potter's advance.

Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Luna all returned exactly when Hermione had said they would be back. Harry stared out the window at the gloomy landscape that passed by. He was lost over whether or not he had done the right thing with Draco and seemed to ignore his friend's presence all together.

Hermione and Ginny noticed the darkness encapsulating Harry while Ron obliviously took a seat opposite his best friend. Luna spoke of something that sounded like going to find or something coming back eventually, and going to go and wait for it.

Ginny shared a worried look with Hermione and each took a seat on either side of Harry. Hermione took a hold of his hand and brought it to her own lap to receive a faint smile from the boy who didn't turn to look at her.

Ginny looked at Harry for a moment before asking, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry pulled his hand back from Hermione and closed his eyes. "No."

"C'mon mate, you've got to tell me what you've been up to this whole time. I know…," Ron paused running a hand through his hair, "… well you know, but it's in the past and we're mates you and I. And if you know something that's going to save my ass from getting cursed by Voldemort then you bloody well better tell me."

Harry opened his eyes and smiled at the implied fact that Ron would be there fighting Riddle with him.

Hermione and Ginny chided in unison, "Language!"

'_Why is Ginny acting like Hermione,'_ Harry wondered.

"Just reading and training on my own," Harry said flatly.

"There's got to be more to it than that," Ron pressed. "C'mon, mate."

"Well do you want to tell us about your day out in muggle London that was front page news mid-holiday, then?" Ron asked, as Ginny and Hermione still wouldn't talk to him about it.

"I just needed a day off," Harry answered, smiling warmly as he looked at Hermione.

"And what about the other best friend?" Ron asked not liking that he had been cut out of this experience.

Harry looked at Ron curiously, "Sorry, what other best friend?"

Ron looked at Harry for a second before realizing that Harry was messing with him, "Git."

Harry was completely laughing now and causing everyone else to start as well, but mid rant Harry looked up and tried to put on a serious face, "No, seriously, what other best friend."

"Harry, you prat," Ron laughed and punched Harry in the arm.

The rest of the train ride to Hogwarts passed much in the same manner with Harry sidestepping the questions that were asked of him, and Hermione smiling at him when he made a reference to what they were up to when she was staying with him but didn't outright say it. A few of their fellow classmates stopped by to say hello and then went off again. What came as a surprise to Hermione, Ginny and Ron was that Malfoy didn't show up for his annual taunting and threatening rote that they grown used to expecting. So they all enjoyed the ride with games of exploding snap and wizarding chess that ending in Harry stale mating with Ron and being issued a rematch so Ron could secure his title later that night.

When the Hogwarts express pulled into Hogsmeade Station at seven in the evening and every one had changed into their school robes, the students disembarked the train and either made their way to the carriages or over to Professor Sprout who was filling in for Hagrid.

As Harry was helping Ginny into the carriage after Ron had assisted Hermione, there was scream the erupted from inside the train. All students that weren't in their carriages or in the boats turned to where the scream had come from. Pansy Parkinson came running out of the middle car with tears in her eyes, screaming about Draco Malfoy having the dark mark on him and having being beaten by someone in the loo. Everyone was shocked to but for the majority of the student body seemed to take it in stride.

Harry asked Ron, Hermione and Ginny if they had seen Draco at the prefects meeting but all they had to say was he wasn't there and they thought that because of the inquisitorial squad from last term that Professor Dumbledore had revoked his prefect status; and with the Head Boy and Head Girl not saying anything about Draco missing, not even Hermione had thought to question his absence. Ron could have cared less about Malfoy, and Ginny's sentiments matched her brothers. Neville and Luna, who Harry saw at a distant carriage, were still holding hands and wore shared looks of disinterest at the ill fate of the boy who had taunted, threatened and then at the end of last year beaten them along with his fellow Slytherin's at the behest of interim headmistress Dolores Umbridge.

Hermione did not care for once that Draco had finally received what he deserved, or that he had the dark mark on him. She had assumed that with his father being a supporter of Riddle he would soon follow. Harry wanted to smirk, but knew better and entered the carriage after Ginny and waited for Ron to get in before the door was closed.

When the upper year students were walking the halls towards the Great Hall of Hogwarts for the welcoming and sorting feast, the conversations were centered solely on what had happened on the train and how it could have happened. The general consensus from the students from what Harry was overhearing from the different houses was that Draco had done something wrong or was paying for his fathers mistakes and a death eater had gotten onto the train and found him. There wasn't a need to correct their story. Draco would not be waking up anytime in the near future and it did not matter who the man who had delivered Draco's punishment was, so long as he delivered it.

The students filed into the great hall marveling once again the charmed sealing that was now showing the night sky with a slight overcast of grey clouds slowly moving across the room from the doors to the staff table. The different houses assembled themselves at their respected tables, and recounted their summers to their friends that had not been seen over the holidays. The staff table was filled with all the tenured professors, McGonagall, Vector, Sinistra, Flitwick, Grubbly-Plank- who was no doubt filling in for Hagrid until he returned, an empty seat for Professor Sprout, Albus was seated at the Headmasters golden high back chair wearing deep purple stars scattered and glittering. Snape was to his right- he had just returned from retrieving the body of Draco and looked flustered. Binns drifted in an out of sleep. Madame's Hooch, Pomfrey and Pince were present as well. Professor Trelawney was probably in her tower still, since she was not present at the staff table and another empty seat was for the current Defense against the Dark Arts professor.

Harry caught the eye Albus who was talking to Snape without looking at him. He gaze fell upon Harry with a very suspicious expression that almost asked for his confession.

Harry's expression remained stoic as he stared directly at Albus and then shifted his gaze from him to Snape- who was for the first time since Harry had been at the welcoming feast not staring back at him and sneering.

Professor Sprout dramatically flung the doors open to the great hall with her wand and directed the new first years to follow to the stool that Professor McGonagall had set in front of the staff table with the sorting hat resting on top. When she reached the stool Professor McGonagall rose from her seat at the staff table and walked to the group of scared looking first years with a scroll in her hand that was the list containing their names, unlike the previous years when Professor McGonagall led the first years in herself and then lined them together facing the rest of the students to wait for their own sorting.

In an imperious voice, after she cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses, she nearly shouted, "When I call your name, please step forward and sit on the stool. I will then place the sorting hat upon your head and you will be sorted into your house… Evans, Mark!"

A timid and very small looking boy whose name sounded familiar to Harry walked up to the stool quite obviously scared and waited for a moment after Professor McGonagall placed the sorting hat on him.

"Hmmm… then, ah yes… I see… HUFFLEPUFF!" the sorting hat crowed.

The entirety of the students comprising the house of Hufflepuff erupted into cheer welcoming the boy in their fold, while the other houses politely applauded with the staff.

And so it went until the final first year girl, Rachel Livingston, was sorted into Ravenclaw to another enormous round of applause from the house and the polite applause from the other students and the staff watching. Then the sorting hat began its yearly musing and warning to the students.

The old leather hat that looked battered and rubbed raw stirred lightly. The rip that was used for speech near the brim of the hat cracked open to start its usually song.

_Be warned._

The sorting hat since its inception had never stopped after just one line of prose. A simple warning was all that was issued, which left most of the students curious as to why the usual song that was presented was not made. Harry, Ron and Hermione along with Neville had learned last year that the sorting hat warned whenever it felt periods of great danger where ahead in the near future. There was a general turning of heads towards the staff table where more than three quarters of the students were staring at the headmaster expecting an answer.

Professor McGonagall collected the sorting stool and hat and placed them off to the side of the Great Hall next to the staff table and resumed her seat by Professor Dumbledore's side.

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore rose from his high backed ornate wooden chair and raised his hands to silence the murmurs and sporadic conversation that were now taking place amongst the students. Once he had the attention of the students he spoke, "Welcome all to another year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I know you are all waiting for the feast, but I have a few statements that must be made. First the list of contraband materials used for practical jokes and other means has been expanded to include the entire catalogue of Messrs. Weasley at Weasley's Wizarding Wheeze's, if you would like a complete list of all products please see the notice posted on Mr. Filch's door located on the second floor, west wing, down the hall from the trophy room. Second, the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students…" Dumbledore didn't even need to look in the direction of the five Gryffindor's who had taken Thestrals out of the forest last year to the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic, or the countless other times that Harry, Ron and Hermione had been in the forest without Ginny or Neville. "… Third, the sorting hat has never issued such a blunt statement to the students or staff here at Hogwarts since it's creation so please, I beseech you to heed the warning. Fourth, former undersecretary to Minister Fudge and former professor of Defense against the Dark Arts and interim headmistress in my absence last year has been removed from her position at this school and ministry. All decree's previously ratified by herself and the minister have been revoked."

Ron put a hand on Harry's shoulder in a triumphant gesture and Harry smiled at his best friends enthusiasm for him.

"Also there was the implementation of what I have been told was named the Inquisitorial Squad, in my absence. All members are to see me in my office first thing tomorrow morning for a formal review of their actions." Dumbledore's gaze landed directly at the Slytherin table where more than a dozen students shied away from his glare. "I have procured a new Defense against the Dark Arts professor, who regrettably was not able to be here for the feast tonight, but rest assured that your professor will be waiting for you in class on Monday. Finally, the event transpired on your trip here is a most regrettable tragedy to Mr. Malfoy. So young and already willing to accept the ideals that would garner him a false sense of power…" Dumbledore's head fell to his chest for a moment in a sign of his failure, "… Mr. Malfoy has been taken to the hospital wing and is resting comfortably I am told by Madam Pomfrey." Albus' left hand gestured to where Madam Pomfrey was sitting and she slightly stood and nodded in recognition before sitting again.

"With the return of Voldemort to our world, we must all be prepared, so I implore you to excel with your studies. Thank you, that is all, now please, tuck-in," Professor Dumbledore finished by turning his open hands over and bringing to all five tables the food the house-elves in the kitchen out did themselves in preparing.

Harry and Ron engaged themselves in an eating contest to see who could gorge themselves the most, and Harry having subjected himself to a strictly balanced diet this summer devoured every greasy piece of roasted chicken, every slice of minced meat pie, sampled every potato dish available along with all the different scones, crescent rolls and croissants, although he didn't eat very much, he was full in under ten minutes not used to eating so much.

Hermione was amused with Harry's vigor when he attacked the food. She had watched him restrain himself the entire time they were at the manor and wondered how he was going to deal with the feast that was presented to him, and what his trainers would think of him throwing his diet out the window and going for broke, so to speak. But she let it alone and enjoyed the food, enjoyable companionship of Ginny who had engaged her in conversation about preparing for O.W.L.'s and how much revision she had done.

Ron saw his friend who had brought him to stale mate at chess was also trying to beat him at eating, and that was just something he wasn't going to allow. Chess was one thing that he was good at, but eating had always been a silent competition between Harry and Ron where Ron always emerged the victor without any trepidation or complaint from Harry.

Neville kept glancing at the Ravenclaw table, waving to Luna and blushing when she would look up from the food she was delicately cutting and return his gesture with a bright smile.

Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas congratulated Harry on having his life time ban on Quidditch lifted and asked if he wanted any help taking down the troll in the basement that was rumored to be guarding his Firebolt. Harry said that he'd find the broom on his own, but he appreciated that they'd be willing to attack a troll with him. Although he thought they might want to get in with the tight circle that had gone to the ministry and dueled death eaters- a story that was fast becoming legend around the different houses.

Harry felt full and decided it would be wise to avoid the rich puddings offered by the elven staff. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were also stuffed and felt very content and it was their general consensus that Harry should pay attention to the headmaster's beckoning.

Hermione noticed Harry acknowledge Professor Dumbledore and whispered the common room password in his ear before taking her leave with the rest of the house. Ginny and Colin had been awarded the fifth year prefect positions and as such were now responsible for herding the first years to the dormitories; Ron felt obliged to announce his happiness at the change of guard.

At the well wishing of Professor Dumbledore the houses were dismissed to their respective dormitories and kindly asked to prepare for the first day of classes on Monday.

The houses filed out of the Great Hall in a uniform manner all headed in separate directions with some students lingering to say goodnight to their friends in other dorms. Ginny and Colin led the five first year Gryffindor's ahead of the upper year students and instructed them about the stair cases and the portraits that could be of assistance should they find themselves lost.

Harry remained seated in the hall and watched his friends disappear. The staff had decided to turn in for the evening as well and that left him alone with the elves already hard at work cleaning every surface they could locate. He didn't truly want to visit the headmaster on his first night back, or on any other night for that matter but he was resigned to the fact that their meeting would have to take place at some point. The matter that their meeting was at the choosing of Albus irked him all the more.

The stone gargoyles posted on either side of the entrance to the headmasters' office were already displaced revealing the stone spiral staircase. Harry stood before the door taking a calming breath; the last time he had been in the room beyond this door the news he had received had altered his life in such previously unimaginable and indiscriminate ways...

His knock, despite his intentions came a bit more tentatively as he would have preferred.

Harry received a kind welcome and entered the headmaster's office. He was not surprised to see Snape present, but he wasn't exactly pleased either. His head was held high, power in check and tongue poised at the ready.

Professor Dumbledore was seated in his chair behind his large desk. Professor Snape sat in one of the two chairs arranged before the headmaster's desk.

"Harry, please have a seat," Albus gestured to the only other open seat.

Harry opted not to object to being so close to the man he yearned to quarter-arm and leave bleeding to death. He took the offered chair and absently composed himself while enjoying the peripheral vision of Snape seething at his obvious insouciance.

"Harry," Albus started very calmly, but was interrupted.

"Mr. Potter," Harry corrected. He could practically taste the hatred radiating off of the man to his right.

Professor Dumbledore continued without acknowledging the slight. "Would you please tell us what you know of what happened on the train this afternoon."

"Are you implying I had something to do with Malfoy?" Harry asked, hating his duplicity. He felt the way he imagined a Slytherin would.

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore began but corrected his usage before there was a voiced objection to his familiarity. "Mr. Potter, I do apologize but Mr. Malfoy and yourself possess no qualms as to announcing your thoughts on one another."

Professor Snape scoffed despite himself. "Headmaster, you and I both are aware Potter is responsible."

"You seem very sure of yourself," Harry stated, not looking at Snape but rather at Professor Dumbledore. "I came here, I admit, under the assumption that we were discuss matters of importance concerning Riddle. Though, noting that this has degenerated into an inquisition before we even discussed the relevant topic of this evening I think I'll just go to bed.

Professor Snape was out of his chair in an instant. His snifter crashed to the wooden floor with the mess vanishing before it spread beyond the circumference of the impact. An oak wand already in hand and incantation ready to be unleashed.

"You would do well to not lose control of yourself so quickly and accuse me," Harry replied calmly to Professor Snape's outburst.

"Harry, I apologize for this, but did you attack Mr. Malfoy?" Albus inquired sadly.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Harry asked Professor Snape who currently had his wand tip pressed against his throat. "I did not come here to be bullied!

Harry banished Snape against the far right wall. He quietly enjoyed the sight of the older man's body crashing into a bookcase and the avalanche of tomes that fell atop his form.

Harry was at the side of the groaning wizard faster than Professor Dumbledore could witness. He grasped his assaulter by the throat and held him arm's length.

Professor Snape brought both of his hands to Harry's one. He was looking frantic, and his wand was somewhere buried beneath the many books.

"I won't be anywhere near you this year, and if you know what is best you will stay away from me. You were warned but you still had to test me…" Harry said and watched Snape's face turn a shallow shade of purple. "Albus is the only man keeping me from claiming your life, do you know that? You played a part in the death of my Godfather, and Remus and I are going to collect the debt you owe him, my father and my mother. So, play the spy and the piece of shite that you are, but if you cross me once, insult me, sneer, or if I find out that you're taking out your hatred on my…" Harry dropped the man just before his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Professor Dumbledore stood dumbfounded at the scene unfolding in front of his eyes

"… friends, your role in this war won't make a difference. Do you understand?"

Snape was trying to say something, but the constriction Harry had put on his throat was made it hard for him to speak.

"Nod your head if you understand," Harry instructed.

Snape wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Harry only smirked at the man's defiance.

Harry not pleased with the man, and certainly not in any mood to deal with being in his presence longer than necessary returned to the seat he was previously occupying and looked at the headmaster asking without speaking to continue with what he was going to tell him.

Albus regained his composure and looked from Harry to Snape to see if what he had just witnessed really happened. Harry was sitting still and collected in the chair that he had been offered when he came in, and Snape was sitting slack in his chair with his hands on his throat trying to take shallow breaths with coughing and looking paler than his usual vampire like characteristics showed.

"Harry, you CAN NOT attack a member of this staff!" Albus finally bellowed in response to what just happened between the young man and professor.

Harry raised a hand to stop the headmaster, "Stop, he is no more a member of this staff than I am a student here. Would you willingly allow this, I hate to use this word to describe him because he doesn't deserve it, man, to teach here if he wasn't needed to spy on, Riddle? Not only do the students despise him, those in his own house for the most part as well as the entirety of the rest of the houses, but the professors themselves can't stand him. Would you honestly let him continue teaching here? Surely the wizarding world is not so devoid of potions masters that one could not be found to substitute. One that would actually teach his students what they are doing instead of writing ingredients and instructions on a board and expecting completion by the time the class period is over. He is here because he has to be here, right now, to spy on both sides; to pretend to be both Riddle's and your spy. He's made sacrifices I'm sure but he's made choices that outweigh them."

Albus stared at Harry with his mouth agape. Never had a current student condescended him. He was not quite so sure of Harry's innocence in Draco Malfoy's assault any longer.

When Professor Dumbledore said nothing for some considerable time, Harry prompted the man. "The instructors I asked you about, have you found any?"

"With the exception of one warlock all have been consigned to your tuition," Albus told him. Who was this boy standing before him? What had happened to him in such a short amount of time?

Harry dismissed Albus' obvious concerns and questions. He'd be damned if he cooperated with the man after what happened in the last five minutes alone. "Brilliant! Are they here in the castle now?"

"They will be arriving Monday."

"I see," Harry replied, turning his eyes away from Albus and making calculations.

"Professor, are you just going to let the boy get away with this?" Snape demanded, pointing at his neck.

"You are both excused," Albus dismissed them both. His attention was drawn to the eagle approaching his study that had tripped the correspondence wards. "He is technically not a student, Severus."

The implication was all Snape had ever wanted to hear.

Severus was the first get up to leave, and Harry slowly rose from his seat. Severus had stopped halfway down the stone steps and turned to confront Harry with his wand out and aimed, "Listen you…"

Harry stopped him before he even got past the first two words. Harry removed his wand from the holster on his left forearm for the second time that day, levitated the unconscious potions master down the stairs and through the corridors of Hogwarts until he reach the infirmary that he knew all too well after only five years. He set the body down on one of the beds across from Draco and called Madame Pomfrey from her office.

When she asked him what had happened, Harry replied, "He fell."

He thought of what Dudley had told his mother when Harry was beaten by his cousin and then found by Petunia who questioned her son.

No one in Gryffindor had gone to bed yet, including the first years, but the absence of Fred and George was obvious. It was sad in a way that they weren't there to lighten to mood of their housemates and that Ginny, who they thought fondly was their protégé when she was in fourth year, had become a prefect and in true Hermione fashion started to really care for the rules.

"Harry!" Hermione cried from the table that she had claimed in her first year and guarded viciously.

"Hermione!" Harry mocked and walked over to the table to sit next to Ginny and across from Hermione.

"Hey, Harry," Ginny greeted, not looking at him and pretending to read her transfiguration year five books introduction.

"Hi Ginny, early start?" Harry wondered.

"Uh, yeah, taking a page from Hermione's book," she replied starting to chew on the top of her quill.

Hermione smiled at the complement to her studiousness and looked to Harry. "Everything go alright with Professor Dumbledore? Did Professor Snape accuse you of attacking Malfoy?"

"Yes and yes." Harry grinned.

"So what did you do?" Ron asked from beside Hermione, scooting closer to get into the conversation and to get closer to Hermione.

"I proved a point."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Ginny pressed. She looked up from her text but with a sour expression from the taste of her quill.

Harry went about explaining the events of what had transpired only an hour ago.

Katie Bell had been watching the whole thing and turned to Neville who was the closest Gryffindor to her and asked, "Are you seeing this?"

Neville was completely confused that Katie was even talking to him. He looked up to see what she was mentioning and quickly turned to the girl, "don't ask me about anything to do with Potter."

Then Neville got up and stalked off.

Hermione asked Harry, "So are you going to be staying in the tower this term?"

"For tonight anyway, but I'll be discussing it further with Albus tomorrow," Harry said noticing the questioning looks on Ron and Ginny's faces.

As if calling the headmaster by his first name wasn't strange enough, Ginny asked, "What do you mean for tonight? Where else would you stay?"

Ginny turned back to stare at Harry who only nodded his head and extended an invitation, "I'll show you sometime if you want."

He flashed what looked like, to Ron, a feral smile that caused Ginny to blush.

Ron saw this and there was no way Harry was going to get away with looking at his sister like that. Harry may have changed but Ron saw that he was still taller, had the reach on him and failed to remember when he tried to slap Harry on the back and he didn't even register it.

"Listen, Potter, you may be my best mate, but you don't go around saying things like that to my baby sister and looking at her like that," Ron threatened.

Harry stood from the bench at the table and saw that Ginny and Ron were looking at him incredulously and Hermione looked a little sad that Ron didn't think that Harry had the best intentions when he mentioned giving her a tour of his home.

"I won't be in my bed. Hermione, you know where to find me if I'm needed," Harry said dispassionately and then left the common room, heading off into the castle.

After he left Hermione and Ginny were glaring at Ron and he burst out under the pressure, "What? I have to stick up for you Gin, and what did he mean when he said that he wasn't going to be in his bed and you'd know where to find him, Hermione? Why wouldn't he be staying in the dorms? Would someone please tell me what happened to my best friend and where the hell he is so I can go get him!"

Hermione saw that Ginny was ready to throttle her brother spoke up, "Ron, listen, Harry for one can do things that you don't know about, that I don't know about. Some of the things I've seen him do… well, you'd be best off if you didn't threaten him. You should have known that Harry would never do anything to hurt Ginny. I'm a walking example of who Harry really is these day, so take my advice; that is your best friend, you great prat, he's just grown up faster than you and before he needed to. You and Ginny both don't know what he's been through."

"In case you haven't noticed Ron, Harry's going to need a bit more than sixth year curriculum these days, its likely his studies will be a _bit _more intense than the rest of ours and a lot more involved so he wont be staying in the dorms, he'll be somewhere more convenient."

He was lost right now; his two best friends were better friends with each other than they were with him and his sister had her eyes set on the one boy that every girl in the school was going to be after. The girl that he wanted had also grown and surpassed him even more than she was already ahead of him. Ron Weasley felt like he was being left behind and had to find some way to catch up. Professor Dumbledore had never sent an owl back to him after he sent the parchment explaining everything he knew about what was going on and asking for advice. Now was the time that he could see the headmaster and try to make sense of his changing life. So that's what he did.

Ron stood from the table and cast an apologetic but determined look towards his sister and Hermione and then stormed out of the common room to see Headmaster Dumbledore.

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other and then at the Gryffindor's who were still watching them as if their lives were a play to be followed. Then they both stood and ascended the stairs to their separate dormitories saying genuine and happy good nights before closing the doors to their rooms.

Harry was inside the room of requirement in a recreated glen, running off his frustration by just going in one direction as far as he could go; knowing that no matter how far he ran in here, when he was done he would be exactly where he started- it seemed to be a perfect metaphor for his life at the moment. The gift that the manor provided was wearing off on him already, or he was experiencing a hate so strong that it didn't matter how hard he tried to clamp down on his feelings toward, Ron. He didn't know that he wouldn't be able to block out all these emotions until he was finished training at the manor in a few years. At least the run was helping him to reorganize the emotions that had almost escaped his control in the common room. Harry was going to have put more focus into control; he had taken advantage of the manor and currently he was without such ready access

Harry stopped his run and collapsed on his back in the meadow gazing up at the fake stars and feeling the blades of grass starting to make him itch when combined with his sweat. He fell asleep before he could find his mother's constellation.


	16. There's Always More Than One

Chapter 15½:

Albus arrived by apparation too late. He'd only just received word from Minerva that Harry had once again left the confines of the castle. Once he had been able to determine where the young man had gone he and Fawkes followed the port key trail. Given the recent attacks reported in the Daily Prophet and the pattern he was able to discern by vigilante's action he was left with little doubt that Harry Potter was responsible party. There wasn't much of a pattern to speak of but Albus had gone to great lengths studying the changes in his charge since the end of the last school term. To say that he had convinced himself regardless of the minimal evidence against Harry would be an understatement. Severus had been his sole consul in the endeavor to determine the identity of the operator targeting known Voldemort supporters.

When he arrived on the streets of London there was little space in his mind for regard of the secrecy statute. Several people on the streets stopped in their tracks at the sudden appearance of the grandfatherly looking man in an over-sized blue robe. As well as the statute he cared little for these everyday people who were blissfully ignorant of the happenings around them.

Albus expanded his senses to determine the location of Harry. He trusted that wherever the boy was there would be quite an output of magical energy displacement. His instinct proved true and his senses directed him to the sky, and in particular the top of one of the tallest buildings in the London skyline. His intention was not to stop Harry but rather to observe the boy in action. Albus needed to know for himself what Harry was capable of when not held by the constraints of law. The newspapers had reported the aftermath but not the events that occurred during; he needed to know what he might be facing.

He had not in all his imagination of what he expected to see find Harry dangling over the side of the tall building and held at the collar by his opponent. Albus whispered to himself that this could not be true, could not possibly be happening. With a thought he commanded his spectacles to enhance the image of the struggle taking place high above the streets. He wished he had not seen the faces he had. Both Tom and Harry were up there, Tom obviously had won the battle but not without paying a price as he too looked as battered as Harry.

It was during this inspection that Tom had released Harry and he watched the boy sail downward passed floor after floor of the high-rise. Albus' wand was in his hand not a moment later sending as much magic to halt the boy's fall, to cushion the landing to encase him in a barrier to absorb the shock he knew would shatter the frail human body. Nothing seemed to work. He watched Harry continue to fall unimpeded by his efforts to stall the inevitable.

He could not let Harry die and the only option left to him was to soften the ground. Whatever magic surrounded Harry and prevented Albus' from intervening surely would not be in effect on the concrete sidewalk and the streets of downtown London. His mind was through several questions as he ran as fast as he could and enchanted with every known transfiguration spell in his memory to change the composition of the unforgiving concrete. Later he would be able to answer the questions he posed to himself but now he had two tasks to complete. If Harry had been able to wound Tom there might be an opportunity to further the damage himself, he thought randomly.

Albus looked to where he knew Harry would fall in seconds and then to the ledge where he had been dropped. In that split-second look Albus, confident in his enchantments, apparated directly to the roof of the skyscraper. He didn't bother to ask himself about his ability to do so or Harry's lack thereof in escape practice. He merely appeared to see Tom and of all people, Hermione Granger.

"Thomas!" Albus commanded the man to turn and face him.

He smiled to himself, bowing politely to the girl he was about to kill and faced his former professor. "I would have expected to find you at the base of this building, Albus. Tell me, did you see him land? Was it spectacular?"

Albus was consumed with a rage he'd not felt since the betrayal he suffered all those years ago. He launched curse after curse, sending chains of magic spelled together for greater effect but everything delivered was all for naught.

Hermione watched her headmaster attack Riddle and Riddle merely stood there. Letting the magic wash over him. She herself attempted to curse Riddle while his attention was drawn elsewhere but her spell impacted the space between his shoulders and looked to be absorbed.

When Albus lowered his wand seeing no effect whatsoever on Thomas the villain smiled devilishly in return. He turned away from the old man after that and once more faced the girl.

"My dear," he hissed without malice and mock politeness in tone, "do you not considerate impolite to curse someone when their back is turned?"

Hermione's mouth gaped open. She found herself unable to comprehend the situation of Riddle having absorbed all that Albus Dumbledore had hit him with. Her wand was still held high, prepared for the attack and death she knew was to come.

Riddle slashed his wand at her and she raised the most powerful shield she was capable of conjuring. Her attempt was not matter as the purple light of the curse cut through her translucent shield and severed her right arm from her body at the elbow. She watched his mouth open and his forked tongue lick along his lips at the sight of her open wound gushing blood onto the pale pebbles of the rooftop surface. Only then when his attention was focused on her imminent death did her eyes widen further in shock at the sight of Professor Dumbledore tackle Riddle to the ground and drive a three inch blade through the chest of the monster.

She didn't hear what the two men were saying to one another. All she could hear was the static ringing in her ears and the white around the edges of her vision. Her mouth felt dry and her head felt light. She wanted to use her wand to stop the bleeding but when she looked at the soft arm on the ground and discovered her wand was still in her hand she collapsed beside it reaching for the stick with her remaining left hand.

Albus was quickly upon her when Thomas had managed to port key away with the blade still imbedded in his sternum. He sealed off Hermione's open wound, cradled her unconscious body against his chest, placing her detached arm upon her middle and apparated to the borders of Hogsmeade. Forgetting himself he called for his familiar.

"Take her," he cried to the bird. "Please!"

Without hesitation or landing the creature gripped the girl and delivered her to the infirmary.

Albus looked at his hands covered in the young girls blood and for a moment he believed he was once more in Austria and the sight of a young man with black hair smiled at him. The man looked not at all unlike Harry. Then the thought of Harry flooded his consciousness and his disapparated to return to the scene where he knew Harry to have landed.

The boy lay in the center of a shallow crater with cracks in the concrete spreading away from him like some vicious spider web that he had been trapped in. A crowd of on lookers stood around him gaping at the sight. In the distance were the sounds of ambulatory services and police. Several voices were spreading their belief that Harry had jumped as Albus pushed through the layers of people to get to the boy.

When he fell into the crater and kneeled beside the boy he took in his form believing him to be dead already. Instead he saw that Harry's eyes were moving. Whether this was a reaction of his nerves having been so badly damaged by the fall or a sign that he was still conscious Albus did not know and didn't bother himself with determining.

He stood in the crater above Harry's body with his wand pointed at him. "I'm going to bring you back, Harry."

In the next instant Albus Dumbledore and the boy that all around them had believed committed suicide vanished.

*****

Rufus Scrimgeour, newly appointed Interim Minister of Magic, slammed the periodical down atop his new desk.

"What do you mean he's dead?" He demanded.

Albus sighed. In two days the information that Harry had dueled Thomas had been leaked to the press and the public was in a panic. The information that Thomas had been mortally wounded as well was in the report but the majority of the readership read that piece of information as the monster was still alive, their chosen one dead. Albus was extremely exhausted from all efforts exercised to reassure the public and reform strategies. Thankfully, Thomas was keeping to himself but for how long he couldn't speculate, nor did he desire to do so.

"He's no longer with us, Rufus," Albus repeated tiredly.

Rufus stalked back and forth behind his desk. "What about all that rubbish with the prophecy? Was none of that accurate?"

"Prophecy's are subjective," Albus explained.

"This is just perfect," Rufus lamented. "I've got a new administration to oversee and install, a dead chosen one, a probably wounded but severely pissed off self-styled terrorist dark lord, a panicked constituency and not a damned clue as how to proceed. This was all so much easier in the Auror corp. You had your villain and your plan to put him down. Now I'm drowning in the political squabbling. Do you know several factions, have approached me in our own Wizengamot, with offers for one platform objective to be reached if I effectively kill another faction's objective? I'm just a cop, Albus."

A smile small graced Albus' lips. "Perhaps now you will understand why I prefer Hogwarts."

Rufus couldn't believe the coward would say such a thing. The man was clearly cut out for the political realm of the ministry's plots within plots and everyone's personal agenda with backdoor dealing and subterfuge. His inability to step up left others holding the bag and learning to swim while being thrown in the deep end with the weight of the stigma from the previous administration wrapped around his neck. Rufus had little problem seeing Albus Dumbledore as a coward from this perspective.

"Why are you here, Albus?" Rufus asked, settling into his seat. "We could have had this discussion by fire."

"What we are about to discuss could not have been," Albus said.

Rufus set his elbows on the desk and interlaced his fingers. "Go on."

Albus surreptitiously erected his personal privacy wards. Rufus did not take note of this. "The prophecy had the possibility of pertaining to one other."

Rufus was infinitely interested. If Harry Potter hadn't been the true subject of the prophecy then capitalizing on the only other possibility was the silver lining in this entire fiasco. This was all of course granted that Albus Dumbledore was divulging the whole truth.

"Who?"

Albus knew that this was the only approach left for them to take in order to keep their world from collapsing into the chaos that Thomas would easily capitalize from.

"Neville Longbottom."

Rufus leaned back in his seat. "You do realize the inherent problem in his selection as the legitimate child of prophecy?"

Albus sighed again. "I do."

"There will not be much that either you or I will be able to accomplish when the fanatics grasp the significance," Rufus said. "I think we can rest assured that they will identify that fact quite quickly."

"My hope is that he will be able to quash such talk as the subject of the matter himself," Albus replied.

"They never listened to, Harry," Rufus said.

"We will make them hear, Neville," Albus asserted.

"Have you told the boy, yet?" Rufus asked.

Again, Albus sighed thinking of the events just last week prior to the start of term. "I believe Harry told him."

Rufus was very curious to know how that conversation took place. "Have you followed up on what Harry told the boy?"

"I plan on doing so this evening," Albus answered.

"I will arrange for his training and separation from Hogwarts," Rufus said, writing something on a sheet of parchment. "I've dealt with Augusta Longbottom before and had success with the Daughters of the Goblin Rebellion in several investigations. She'll agree with what I have in mind for young Longbottom."

"Perhaps, it would be best," Albus began.

Rufus waved him off and continued to write. "You had your opportunity with one, Albus. This one we shall cultivate."

"If I may," Albus said. "What are you planning?"

"I plan to give him everything he needs to be ready to put a stop to this terrorist. Lord Voldemort has the upper hand and we need to level the playing field, so to speak."

"How do you intend to do so?" Albus wondered, quickly losing his control of the situation with the fervor that Rufus seemed to be working himself into.

Rufus looked up from what he had written and to Albus. "You should return to Hogwarts and determine where Longbottom's state of mind is and fire me later this evening. Thank you for giving me this, Albus."

Albus gave a slight nod at the dismissal. He left the ministry through the private floo of the Minister of Magic and arrive back in his office at Hogwarts, calling for an elf.

When the elf arrived he asked that Minerva be informed that he needed to speak with Neville at once. She would know where to find him and how best to approach the boy. He hadn't been quite the same since Harry had explained the circumstances of the prophecy's selection.

In the meantime he had Fawkes transport them to the private wing of the infirmary to investigate the condition of Harry and Hermione.

When he arrived Hermione was awake at sitting at Harry's side holding his hand.

Hermione saw the Headmaster coming. "Madame Pomfry says that his body is rejected all attempts at methods to heal his body."

Albus conjured a chair and sat next to her. "Does she give an explanation as to why?"

Hermione shook her head.

"How are you feeling, Ms. Granger?" He asked quietly, focusing his attention on Harry to keep from looking at her half arm with gauze wrapped around the end of her elbow that still had spots of blood soaking through.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and raised her arm for him to see. "I'll be alright. Madame Pomfry has taken to helping me learn to control my left hand as deftly as I managed my right, previously."

Albus nodded.

"If Harry persists in remaining unresponsive to Madame Pomfry's magic I suggest we employ the use of muggle sustaining machines," Hermione said.

"I'm not sure I follow," Albus replied noting Harry's fading condition.

"A respirator, intravenous delivery of medication and fluids. I should think magic would still work for dealing with the waste produced," Hermione elaborated.

Albus concurred with her idea and hoped the situation would not come to that. "If you will leave a list with Madame Pomfry of what you believe he may need I will have everything on hand should the need arise."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered. "What are you telling people?"

Albus thought for a moment how best to answer.

Hermione however assumed what he was going to say to her. "You're letting them believe he's dead?"

"Yes, Ms. Granger."

He watched several tears fall down her cheeks and tried to contain his shame. "They'll be coming after Neville soon, wont they?"

Albus nodded. "Yes."

"That's going to make this fight against Riddle's platform for power all the more strained," she said. "Do you know Harry told Neville before term began about his possible role in the prophecy."

"I suspected as much from the animosity he had shown, Mr. Potter."

"Please, try to make Neville understand Harry's innocence, Professor. He doesn't need to hate Harry."

"My dear," Albus said, speaking honestly with the fragile girl who had already lost too much. "I'm afraid Neville will begin to hate Harry for the burden he has left him more than for the loss of his parents."

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand. "I know. I just..."

"I understand," Albus granted and stood. He softly squeezed her shoulder before he departed to speak with Madam Pomfry.

Over her shoulder Hermione watched Professor Dumbledore converse with Madam Pomfry. She hoped he was convincing her of the necessity of the devices and methods she was requesting. Her sense of Harry was slipping and she wasn't about to let a lack of magic interfere with keeping him alive.

Hermione shift her arm to grab the chair and a pain shot through her at the missed command. She gazed his confusion until she once again was reminded that that appendage was no longer there. She told herself that everything was alright that it didn't mean anything but when looking once more at Madam Pomfry the feeling of resentment was unstoppable.

*****

Three knocks signaled his arrival and Albus bid him to enter. Neville closed the door behind him as he came in. "Professor McGonagall said you wanted to see me, sir."

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom, thank you," Albus replied and directed to a seat. "I have some matters that I need to discuss with you."

Neville sat down as directed. "Okay."

Albus chose to sit next to him by the fire in order to greet Rufus when he was to arrive. "Am I correct in assuming that before he passed, Harry divulged the contents of the prophecy concerning the two of you?"

Neville's guard instantly went up. "Yes, sir."

He remembered quite clearly Harry explaining the contents of the prophecy and subsequently throwing him out of his home. His personal demon finally had a face and the powers that be had granted his wish and struck the beast down.

"What are your feelings on the matter, Mr. Longbottom?" Albus asked, crossing his legs.

"To be honest I haven't given the topic much thought," Neville said, lying. He'd thought of the words constantly ever since word went out about Harry's death.

"I will not tread lightly around the matter, Mr. Longbottom," Albus said, sensing doubt all around the boy. "Either you or Mr. Potter were the subjects mentioned in the prophecy that determines the end of Voldemort."

Neville suppressed a shudder that consequently impressed Albus. He knew this was a good sign. The boy had some strength and resolve to see him through the trials he would face in the time to come.

"With the passing of, Harry," Albus began, unable to callously use the surname any longer, "the mantle is yours to shoulder."

Neville gripped the arms of his chair. The headmaster wanted him to pick up where Harry left off and he had no inclination to do so whatsoever. He knew the words of the prophecy, he understood their meaning and he knew what the death of Harry meant.

"Professor, you chose Harry," Neville said sharply. "In your choice you sentenced all to our fates. His parents and Voldemort's mark and my parents and my own mark were the consequences. Harry is dead, professor and I don't doubt you understand the gravity of his defeat. The only possible reason you could have for coming to me like this would be purely for propaganda and you should know I wont have any part in that."

Albus shrewdly considered the boy beside him. He certainly had some strength and resolve but his regard for the entirety of the situation was lacking.

"I suspect you assume that with Harry dead, Thomas has become immortal. Am I correct in that assumption?"

"Thomas?"

Albus laid his hands upon his lap in preparation for the history lesson he was about to deliver. "Voldemort was born Thomas Marvolo Riddle. I prefer not to give him the satisfaction of using his chosen sobriquet."

"Oh," Neville managed. He certainly hadn't known that. He supposed that Voldemort had to have a real name but had never imagined something so ordinary.

"Thomas is also not immortal. I was witness to the damage Harry inflicted upon his body and was myself capable of further wounding him. He is not all powerful, however my fear is that he will attempt to capitalize on such widespread misinformation disseminated through the press."

Albus did not relish lying to the boy in order to accomplish what must be done, but he saw little choice in how to arrive at the necessary objective.

"That means..." Neville voice half his thought.

"Harry was not the one the prophecy foretold of," Albus finished for him with the thought that he would be unable to say the words himself. "You must be."

Neville's head crashed into his hands as he leaned forward in the chair. "He was capable of so much more me."

Albus rested a hand upon the boy's back. "You will be capable of more. You must be for all of us."

"For all of..." Neville whispered into his hands. "This is insane. That prick did this on purpose, the coward!"

"Mr. Longbottom?" Albus asked, hoping he wasn't speaking of Harry.

Neville began laughing. "Potter did this on purpose!"

"I assure you he did not, Mr. Longbottom," Albus asserted. "Harry acted as best he saw fit. I did not agree with many of his methods or plans, but in the end he faced Thomas on a number of occasions and walked away with his life. However, this last time..."

"This last time he went and bit off more than he could chew," Neville finished for his headmaster.

Albus could say nothing.

"What does this mean for me, Professor?"

"You must be prepared, Mr. Longbottom," Albus said.

Neville stood. "If you could call Potter, Harry then you can call me Neville. How do I prepare for something like this. I barely survived against a single Death Eater in the department of mysteries."

"As you are a minor, Minister Scrimgeour is securing permission from your grandmother in order to have you properly prepared for dealing with the threat you now face."

"My gran?" Neville wondered. "What permission does she have to give and what for?"

"Mister," Albus said and then corrected himself, "Neville, you are in for quite a difficult journey."

"Do you think I can do this?" Neville asked him, not knowing what to think.

The prophecy kept replaying through his mind. He thought of Harry and all the stories he'd heard of him fighting Voldemort or Thomas and wondered what power he was supposed to have that Harry didn't possess. He wanted to ask Professor Dumbledore if he knew, but if Harry had been who he picked then all the information pertained to him solely. Neville was sure that he was screwed.

Albus smiled convincingly. "I know you can."

Neville wasn't very convinced until Professor Dumbledore spoke again.

"You have to. There's no one else."

Neville swallowed nervously and tried to steel himself. "What do I have to do."

*****

Ginny was wandering the halls of Hogwarts, numb to the world. The Boy-Who-Lived was dead. Harry was gone. The hero her father had described to her as a little girl, injected as the main character into every story that was read at night, was no longer there to save her or the world. She still felt as if the news had only been released instead of the two and half days that had passed since then.

It was the dead of night. Hours gone by since curfew had gone into effect and still she stalked the empty corridors. Eventually she found herself in the tower that led to the headmaster's office. When standing before the gargoyle that would grant her entrance to see Professor Dumbledore she debated whether to see if he was still awake or not. In the end she decided not to bother the man.

She turned her back on the gargoyle and began walking away when the stones shifted to reveal the staircase and the sound of a single person descending the steps. Ginny wondered if Professor Dumbledore had a monitor at the gargoyle and decided to come to her instead.

Instead of Professor Dumbledore she witnessed Neville exited the headmasters private entrance.

"Neville?" She called.

"Ginny?" Neville asked, his eyes still adjusting to the new darkness. "What are you doing here? Never mind, I'll escort you back."

"You don't have to do that, Neville," Ginny told him. "I didn't feel much like being in the common room or the dorms, really."

"Who knows what's out here at this hour besides, Filch," Neville said placing a hand on the small of her back and leading her away. "Come one."

"What were you doing in Dumbledore's office?" Ginny asked, allowing herself to be led.

Neville snorted. "Plotting my death, I think."

Ginny stopped abruptly looking horrified.

He wasn't sure what had made her stop until he considered his choice of words. "Oh, Ginny, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"No," Ginny condemned, while avoiding crying in front Neville. "How'd you mean it then?"

Neville was frustrated from everything he'd discussed with Professor Dumbledore and then Minister Scrimgeour. The last thing he wanted at the moment was an emotional girl reading too much into things.

"Look, Ginny," Neville said getting her attention, but then thought better of explaining himself to her of all people. "You know what? Forget it. Forget I said anything, you should be good at the by now."

Neville left her standing there crying in the hallway. She didn't understand why he'd said the things he had or why'd he'd said them the way he had. Everything was so confusing in her mind and nothing made any sense at all.

When Neville returned to the Gryffindor common room he passed by everyone still lounging about. He stalked up to his dormitory and began to pack. Minister Scrimgeour had given him an hour to pack all of his belongings then to be waiting for him in the great hall. Not that he had a great deal to pack but to suddenly be leaving Hogwarts required a shift in mentality. He wasn't going to be a student anymore. There wouldn't be anymore wakeups in the tower, breakfasts in the great hall with everyone else, and no more classes.

In ten minutes he had packed all the possessions he had with him at Hogwarts. He couldn't think of anything that his Gran would need to send along from home. Neville spelled his trunk with a weightless charm and once more, for the last time in a great amount of time he suspected, exited through the portrait of the Fat Lady. No one bothered to ask where he was going with his trunk. Those who had seen him leave hadn't even said goodbye.

The great hall was empty with the exception of Professor Dumbledore, Minister Scrimgeour and a man Neville didn't recognize.

"Neville," Minister Scrimgeour greeted and turned to introduce his companion. "This is Mr. Mighalan. He'll be your coordinator from here on out. He's in charge of ensuring you make it to your lessons and providing remedial tuition should you find yourself in need."

Neville stuck out his hand and Mr. Mighalan shook it accordingly but said nothing.

"I wont say I'm looking forward to this," Neville admitted as they trooped down to the carriage the minister had brought with him.

Mr. Mighalan wore a smile that unnerved Neville to no end but again said nothing.

"No," Minister Scrimgeour said to him. "I don't suppose you would. Your grandmother sends her regards."

Neville didn't believe that for a moment. "Thanks."

At the carriage Professor Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder. The look in his eye only further unsettled Neville, but he gave his now-former headmaster an understanding nod. He entered the carriage without another word followed by Minister Scrimgeour who sat across from him and Mr. Mighalan who sat adjacent.

Professor Dumbledore sealed the carriage door and they were away.

"Where are we..." Neville attempted to ask.

Mr. Mighalan used his elbow to knock Neville unconscious.

"This your method?" Rufus asked David Mighalan.

David shrugged. "We receive the best results when they arrive disoriented and afraid."


	17. Matters of the Soul

Chapter 15¾:

Cold water splashed onto his face abruptly waking him. "Wakey, wakey, sonny."

Neville gazed up in shock at the man standing over him. He also scanned his surroundings and found he was lying on the floor in nothing but his trousers and boots. He drug his hands across his face to clear the water and only succeeded in sticking the dirt from his palms to his cheeks.

"Where am I?" Neville asked, standing up.

He felt for his wand but couldn't find it anywhere on his person. "Where's my wand?"

The sun behind the man blocked Neville's view of his face. "You'll receive your wand when you earn it."

"What are you talking about? Where's Minister Scrimgeour?"

"Oh, boyo," the man said jovially. "This is going to take much longer than I anticipated."

*****

"Oh, hello, Professor Dumbledore," Mariah greeted.

"Hello, my dear," Albus replied in turn to Minister Scrimgeour's secretary. "Is the minister in?"

Without bothering to check the minister's diary she answered honestly. "I believe so. Is he expecting you?"

Albus chuckled. "I don't believe so."

He let himself in with a wink towards Mariah. She smiled in return thinking nothing of rebuffing the headmaster of Hogwarts.

Albus pushed through the double doors to enter Rufus' office. After three months of deliberation the Wizengamot had seen fit to confirm Rufus Scrimgeour as the successor to Cornelius Fudge Jr. to seat of Minister of Magic.

Rufus looked up from the report he was halfway through reading when Albus Dumbledore burst into his office without so much as a note from his secretary let alone a scheduled appointment.

"Albus," Rufus said, closing the dossier and replacing it in the confines of his desk. "What brings you here today."

Rufus speculated that Albus' presence had something to do with the latest press release regarding Neville Longbottom. To date, two official stories regarding the training and disposition of the young man, had been printed by the Daily Prophet but that hadn't prevented other periodicals from printing sensational conjecture.

Albus took a seat without invitation. Rufus would have been obliged to offer him a chair but Albus seemed to acting above protocol.

"I was sincerely hoping that you would fill in the details of Mr. Longbottom's training."

"Those details are classified, Dumbledore," Rufus said. "You know this and agreed that my administration would be solely responsible for the training he is currently receiving."

"I am uncertain of your methods," Albus replied. "I cannot argue the physical results. Those are clearly apparent, but nowhere in these releases does it mention anything of magic. There doesn't even seem to be an implication of magical training. At the very least if you cannot divulge the secret of Mr. Longbottom's training, I would like to seek permission to observe a session of his tutelage."

Rufus seemed to think this over. "I will ask Mr. Longbottom if he would mind having you on hand for a day. I must warn you however, that should he agree you would be required to sign and engage in a multitude of secrecy statutes and non-disclosure agreements."

"I do not foresee this to be an issue," Albus allowed, wondering indeed what he would be forced to agree with.

"Then I will let you know, Mr. Longbottom's decision by the end of the week," Rufus dismissed and waited for Albus to rise and leave.

"Thank you, Rufus," Albus said in departure.

Rufus nodded his goodbye. The moment Albus was beyond the doors of his office he signaled for Mariah to join him. He required a staff that was reliable and she proved herself to be wanting in that particular regard.

*****

"Speaking from an undisclosed location Augusta Roseanne Longbottom, Chairwoman of the Daughters of the Goblin Wars, had this to say about her son as the recently affirmed true child of prophecy.

'I can say with complete sincerity that my grandson, Neville Franklin Longbottom, scion of the houses of Longbottom and Archer, is well on his way to achieving a level of proficiency with his magic to rival that of the threat posed by the Dark Lord.

I have been in contact with my grandson and have received nothing but positive reports from him and objective assessments from his trainers. Trainers provided by the Ministry of Magic under the guidance of one Rufus G. Scrimgeour.'

"When asked about her son's late identification she spoke briefly as to the efforts mounted by the late Harry James Potter."

'I had the honor of attending Hogwarts with Arthur and Kathryn Potter as well as their son James. I also was grateful for the occasions where young Harry and I met. He and Neville were responsible for the apprehension of several known Death Eaters and those finally, conclusively proven to be Death Eaters. From my understanding neither boy would come to grow into the young men they were and are presently without one another. Unfortunately, I believe the prophecy surrounding them could not have been conclusively selective without the events unfolding as they had. With my sincerest regret I wish the knowledge we all share today could have been gained without sacrifice Harry James Potter made. However, it is also my contention that Harry Potter's sacrifice ensured my grandson would have adequate time to prepare for the task destined for him.

'On behalf of my grandson, I thank Harry Potter for his efforts. They will not be forgotten.'

"Several independent reporters in the audience voiced their question regarding the significance Neville's lineage as compared to Harry Potter's. To our readership the facts surrounding Harry Potter's lineage are well known as his father was the scion to the Noble and Courageous House of Potter and married a first generation witch Lily Evans. At the time of James Potter's marriage to Lily Evans neither his mother nor father had survived the purges He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named enacted on our civilization. However, in this publications archives this reporter was able to uncover a great deal of correspondence written after the wedding announcements were made public.

"Public sentiment in a poll of those in attendance of the Lady Longbottom's press conference were of the opinion that Neville Longbottom was the only logical choice for the prophecy. Eighty percent of those polled believed that Neville Longbottom's lineage legitimized his role in the prophecy delivered by Sybil Trelawney.

"This reporter would like to ask you the reader to write in with your opinion on the issue. Was Harry Potter viewed as the child of prophecy solely at the urging and backing by Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore? Is Neville Longbottom, Albus Dumbledore's backup hero? Is Neville Longbottom truly the boy prophesized as the equal of the Dark Lord? The Daily Prophet wants to know what you think."

Hermione finished reading the headline article to Harry.

"What do you think, dear?" Madam Pomfry asked Hermione.

Hermione jumped in her seat, startled at the sudden appearance of the hospital matron behind her. "I didn't see you there."

"I'm sorry, dear," Madam Pomfry apologized. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

Hermione took several deep breaths with a smile on her face for a reason she couldn't place. "That's alright, Madam Pomfry. I should have been paying better attention."

"Please, Hermione, call me Poppy. You're here often enough."

"Oh, thank you," Hermione said. "Poppy."

Poppy Pomfry smiled. "How is he today?"

"Still no change," she answered.

The beeping of the machines signaled that his heart rate was normal, and all other bodily functions were still operating. Two months ago they had been forced to act on Hermione's early insistence that these machines be kept on hand. Harry had been deteriorating at my unpreventable by the magic at Poppy's disposal and thus Harry was attached to an intravenous drip, plugged with catheters and attached to an artificial respirator when his lungs finally failed to breathe on their own.

"One day he'll wake up, dear," Poppy assured her. She was also attempting to assure herself.

Hermione smiled sadly. She appreciated the kind words and effort despite the apparent lack of faith behind them. "Thank you. I know he will. I just don't know when."

*****

He reminded himself that Mighalan said that this would never be an easier. At the very least he had his wand now- for as much as that mattered where any of them were concerned. The obstacles were never any easier to negotiate. There was never a pattern to discern in any of their tests. Zero encouragement or praise was given. Constant reminders of what was waiting for him when they considered him ready. Lessons in muggle, or as they called themselves 'mundane', areas of interest as applied to his destiny. They'd also stripped him of his sense of time.

Climbing the last rope and traversing the last raised log obstacle of the course one of the instructors called out for the time. When the time was relayed back he'd been told with his hands upon his knees that he was a second slower than his previous run through. He knew what that meant. He knew Mighalan would soon as a result.

To his surprise, Professor Dumbledore was being escorted towards him instead of David Mighalan. He did not know what this meant. Neville couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd last seen Professor Dumbledore at Hogwarts.

"Neville, my boy," Albus greeted happily. "How are you?"

The old wizard stuck out his hand and Neville took it with enthusiasm. Albus almost winced at the pressure with which Neville squeezed his palm.

Neville wanted to say that he was tired but with so many T.A.C.s around he thought that would be unwise. "I'm learning."

He thought that was a neutral enough answer.

Albus looked around the grounds noting the various physical training equipment apparatus. "What have had you doing?"

With a sharp look from a T.A.C., Neville discovered the truth wouldn't benefit him in the future. "A little of everything, Professor."

Albus turned to the various instructors in fatigues surrounding him and Neville. "Would it be at all possible for Neville and I to have a lesson?"

"If Mr. Longbottom has no objection?" Mighalan appeared and asked Neville.

Neville shook his head that there were no objections on his behalf.

"Very well," Albus said, elated and shrugging off his outer robe.

Mighalan crossed over the course and stood next to Neville. "Remember rule number one, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville gave a nod of understanding and stood at the ready. "When you're ready, Professor."

Albus nodded in his direction and launched his first spell. In that time Neville apparated across the distance and made to strike the throat of his former headmaster with an open handed smack. Albus was able to catch the hand and tried to toss Neville physically away from him. Neville however held tight to Albus and pulled into the throw bringing Albus off balance and at the same instance disapparating to appear behind the fallen man. At this time his wand appeared in his hand and began to cast all manner of incapacitation charms.

Albus disapparated before the spells impacted. With the luck of a guess Neville turned to where he believed Albus would appear and cast a spell where no one stood. His guess was accurate and the moment the wizard appeared the spell connected with his chin knocking him onto his back with a groan.

The older wizard lay there for a minute. "Well done, Mr. Longbottom."

Albus was unable to suppress a cough. In the distance several T.A.C.s were scribbling various notes on their clipboards. The entire impromptu duel lasted barely over two minutes.

Neville helped Albus to his feet while he kept his wand trained on his opponent.

"Kill him," Mighalan ordered.

Neville kept his eyes trained on Professor Dumbledore.

"I believe I must have misheard you, sir," Albus said to the man who had ordered Neville to kill him.

Mighalan ignored Albus Dumbledore. "Kill him, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville's wand was pointed directly against Albus' abdomen. At this distance he wouldn't be able to apparate away quickly enough to avoid a killing curse. The words stood on the tip of his tongue, waiting for him to voice them aloud, but they were withheld.

"We need him out of the way, Mr. Longbottom. Albus Dumbledore is extraneous," Mighalan reinforced. "And, you need to prove yourself capable of following orders."

Albus cocked his head to the side. He attempted to pierce the mind of the boy before him and knock him unconscious but he found rudimentary defenses that identified his probe. Although, instead of be rejected from the mind, Neville allowed him access.

Mighalan and then men around them expected the distraction that came but they were unable to prevent the course of events. The ground surrounding Neville Longbottom and Albus Dumbledore exploded upward and outward.

When the dust settled and the T.A.C.s picked themselves up off the ground neither their charge nor Albus Dumbledore were to be found. Mighalan while still disoriented, apparated to the Ministry of Magic to inform the minister of the Supreme Mugwumps most recent decision.

*****

"I'm sorry, Professor," Neville said while they walked up the footpath to Hogwart's great hall entrance.

Albus laughed heartily despite the soreness in his jaw. "On the contrary, Neville. I have you to thank. I have no doubt that had you wanted to I would be a grave man now."

Neville didn't care to think of the accuracy surrounding that statement. "I don't suppose I'll be allowed back into classes?"

"No, I don't think so," Albus informed him. "However, I do have a select group of experts that may take you on as their pupil."

"You do?" Neville asked skeptically.

"Indeed. However most have taken rooms in Hogsmeade awaiting their next possible contracts."

"Were they here for, Harry?"

"Yes."

"In that case, I don't think he'll mind."

Albus thought of Harry lying in a secure room hidden off of the hospital wing. "No, I don't think he will. I will say, however, that your training under your former instructors has adequately prepared you for their course of instruction."

All Neville thought about was actually having a bed to sleep in and the act of truly sleeping. He wore a bright smile the rest of the trip to the castle.

Entering the castle Albus snapped his fingers and an elf appeared. "Yes, headmaster?"

"Please locate, Mr. Longbottom a private room," Albus asked the tiny housekeeper.

The elf nodded and indicated that Neville should follow. "When you are settled please come and see me, Neville."

"Of course, Professor," Neville said and followed his guide.

Twenty-five minutes later Neville was seated before Albus' desk.

"Neville, I have come to an impasse. I do not wish to make the same mistakes with you that I made with Harry and as such tonight I will reveal information that only two other's are aware. Myself, Thomas Riddle and our newest potions professor Horace Slughorn."

Neville followed, wondering what was about to be revealed.

"What I am speaking of is the dark magic known as a Horcrux," Albus said.

Neville had zero information regarding such an object.

"This magic pertains specifically towards the magic of the soul. When a wizard, or as it was when the magic was first created a witch, seeks to split their soul into separate pieces and store that separate piece in a container the act is now as creating a Horcrux. Why would a person desire to split their soul, you may ask. The answer involves the individual seeking a method to cheat death for as long as a piece of their soul remains on this plane undestroyed their exists a way for them to return."

Neville gave a bewildered nod.

"To achieve the creation involves the willful act of murder and the proper ritual to follow. It is my contention that Thomas has created several of these horcruces. I believe seven in fact. One has been confirmed destroyed, and another I am still in the process of determining. This leaves you and I with a remaining five fragments of soul to identify, locate and destroy. When we have these remaining five, or six, destroyed with complete confirmation we will have the opportunity to end the life of Thomas Riddle."

Neville's eyes were wide. "You're having a laugh."

"I assure you I am not," Albus replied soberly.

"You're telling me that he split his soul into several pieces and hid them about?" Neville said in a state of shock.

"Yes."

"And you have an idea where these remaining pieces are?"

"A few, yes, I do."

"But not all of them?"

"No."

"You are having a laugh."

"Neville," Albus warned. "This is a serious matter and I am not telling you a tale."

"Did Harry know about any of this?"

"Harry had the unfortunate disposition of being psychically connected to Thomas and therefore I was unable to divulge a great deal of information while I suspected his possible leak."

"I see."

"I want you to take these with you tonight," Albus said pushing several vials of silver liquid toward him. "I will send my pensieve to you by the time you have returned to your room. These are memories concerning the life of Thomas Riddle. You might be able to learn something of his history and important information that may give you an edge you otherwise would not have."

Neville pocketed the memories. He was familiar with the use of a pensieve from his time spent under the tutelage Minister Scrimgeour had provided him until recently. "Thank you."

"As I said, I wish to avoid the mistakes I made with Harry."

"By mistakes you mean withholding vital information," Neville accused.

Albus chose to say nothing be appeared somewhat introspective at the remark.

'Is that all, Professor?" Neville asked.

"For this evening, yes," Albus answered. "Please review those memories this evening. Tomorrow you will have the day to spend at your leisure but on Monday your new instructors will be in the castle and awaiting you for their lessons. I hope you learn as much as Harry planned on achieving through them."

"Good night, Professor," Neville said and left the office.

"Good night, Neville," Albus said to the empty room.

*****

In the morning Neville was certain that he had been yelled at to wake up. Though, when he abruptly sat up with his adrenaline pumping and ready to run there was no one in the room other than him. He took several deep breaths to calm down but eventually threw off his blankets and went through his morning ritual.

There weren't any mirrors at the compound and when he walked by a double take was necessary. Neville almost didn't recognize himself.

He made quick work of the castle size and was quickly in the great hall for an early breakfast. Students were still absent and when he noted the time he knew why. An elf appeared and asked if he'd like something from the kitchen. When he gave his order and the elf disappeared once again he was alone. Neville fingered the polish on the long wooden table absently drawing a design with the residue of his skin. A smiling face stared back at him when he was finished. He laughed when his breakfast appeared beside the smiley face.

"Do you mind if I join you?" A soulful voice asked from behind him.

He turned to identify the owner of the voice and stared up at Luna Lovegood.

"Please," he said, indicating a spot on the beach beside him.

She sat down and slid her book bag underneath the bench. "Thank you."

"Not at all," Neville replied, spearing some egg whites onto his fork. "Did you sleep well?"

Luna peered at his food. "Your diet is similar to Harry Potter's."

Neville smirked, for once not caring about the comparison. The T.A.C.s had been fond of using the comparison against him. He toasted with his fork, "Children of prophecy, what can I say?"

"Hmm," Luna hummed. "Can you say Lymphwrigglesnupstigne?"

Neville laughed slightly. "I suppose with practice."

"Let me know when you are able," she told him.

Professor Dumbledore appeared before both of his students. "Excuse, Ms. Lovegood, might I borrow Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville didn't wait for Luna's permission. "Excuse me, Luna."

Luna wasn't paying him any mind. Or didn't appear to be as she had removed a Quibbler from her book bag and was busy with one of the articles.

"Shall we?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

Neville followed the professor.

"Did you have the opportunity to review those memories," Albus inquired as they walked.

"I did. I took the liberty of having a house elf return your pensieve this morning. I trust you received it already?"

"Yes, thank you, my boy," Albus said. "I'm curious as to your thoughts."

"And I'm curious about the Gaunt house."

"Yes," Albus said. "I was certain you would be."

"What about Voldemort?" Neville asked. "Have we heard anything from him?"

Albus shook his head as they ascended the staircase to his office. "In a moment, I'll let our source brief you himself."

"Who is our source?" Neville asked, opening the door for Albus.

Standing in the center of the room was Severus Snape.

"Severus," Albus greeted.

"Headmaster," Severus replied with a curt nod. "Longbottom."

"Professor," Neville said.

"Severus, if you'd be so kind as to brief Neville on the situation."

Severus raised a single eyebrow to clearly and silently question Albus' sanity. He ignored Neville and instead briefed Albus.

Neville chose to ignore the slight and listened to the report Severus delivered.

"The Dark Lord has almost completely recovered from the wounds he sustained while fighting Potter."

Neville made note to ask Albus for that report later. Whatever Harry had done had been effective and prove to be so again should he find himself without an alternative.

"If the speculation is to be believed..."

"Speculation?" Albus queried. He clearly sounded astounded that Professor Snape was reporting soft intelligence.

Severus appeared ashamed of himself and would not meet Albus' eye. "Bellatrix has been the only one to gain an audience with the Dark Lord. She has been acting as the intermediate between he and I where his restorative potions are concerned."

Neville again made a note to ask why Professor Snape hadn't simply poisoned the bastard and been done with this particular body. If the intelligence on horcruces was accurate then even with the destruction of this body they would increase the amount of time they'd have to actively hunt down the pieces of his soul without interference. The lack of action by Albus' operators was confusing. Especially where Severus Snape was concerned in light of his access.

"I see," Albus said, clearly disappointed. "What is the speculation?"

"He plans to make a move on the ministry," Severus said.

"Outright?" Albus asked.

Severus said nothing. Speaking towards a possibility he had no confirmation of was tantamount to lying and he was still bound by oath.

"Is that all?" Albus said.

Severus nodded affirmatively. Fawkes chirped on his perch to which Albus cast a wary eye. Something had his familiar on edge regarding Severus Snape. Whatever the man was hiding wasn't of great import or his binding oath would be tearing him apart on the carpet currently.

"Thank you, Severus," Albus dismissed.

Severus bowed. "Headmaster."

Severus stalked passed Neville without so much as a look in his direction and exited the room quietly.

"Thoughts?" Albus asked once Severus was gone.

"Why hasn't he poisoned Voldemort?" Neville asked straightforward.

"I've asked him not to. Severus is our only true source of information inside Riddle's inner circle. As he's the only one capable of poisoning Thomas should the attempt fail, or should he succeed and destroy his current body, Severus' role would be exposed and he would have no further access to information should Thomas resurrect another body before we were capable of destroying all his remaining ties to this plane."

"Can I have a copy of the report on what Potter did to Voldemort that took him out of commission for the past four months?"

Albus opened a drawer in his desk and searched for the file Neville requested. When he handed over the dossier he held fast when Neville grabbed it. "I ask that you read this in here. The information cannot be disclosed to anyone else. Neither Rufus Scrimgeour nor Severus nor any member of the Order are aware of what Harry did or what happened to him."

Neville accepted the dossier. "The order?"

"Ah," Albus said. "The organization I head as an effort to subdue all efforts Thomas endeavors to make."

"Will I be a part of this order?"

"You are an integral operator and in the coming week you'll be introduced to those you need to know."

Neville sat in front of the fire instead of the desk and perused the contents of the dossier. He was amazed at the depth of information contained within. There were even eye- witness accounts of muggles who watched Harry fall. He almost tore the documents to shreds when he read what happened to Hermione and he wasn't sure why he reacted so strongly to her being maimed.

"He actually stabbed Voldemort in the chest?" Neville asked in shock.

"Hmm?" Albus asked, working on another matter at his desk. "Oh, yes. As the report states, we believe that this is the wound that directly attributed to the significant recovery time Thomas was forced to endure."

"I don't doubt it."

Neville couldn't believe that Harry had managed to stab the bastard and still the monster had thrown him off the roof. If Voldemort was able to work through such a wound for even a short amount of time he didn't know how he stood a chance.

"This report reads as if Harry was ill prepared for Voldemort. It's almost as if he was expected someone else," Neville speculated.

"You would be correct in that thought," Albus told him. "Over the course of the summer Harry was engaged in several clandestine proactive operations against Riddle's organization."

Neville looked over at Professor Dumbledore. "What does that mean exactly?"

"Harry was actively tracking Death Eater's and acting with prejudice towards them," Albus answered.

Neville thought that was an interesting way to describe Harry hunting human beings. "Right."

"So, Harry was expecting a different target and Voldemort caught on to the game and decided to intervene?"

"That is our assessment," Albus said, returning to his work.

Neville stood and returned the dossier to Albus' desk. "A lot of that magic I didn't understand. Especially the identified spell 'Bareth Sek', what is that?"

"Soul magic," Albus answered. "I intend to tutor you myself in that particular field of magic."

"Is that strictly used for the destruction of a horcrux?"

"That particular spell is a piece of an archaic exorcism. Powerful and unwieldy, but used as Harry had intended... had he connected we would only be left with four pieces to find."

Neville filed that information away as well. He thought that perhaps he could involve Hermione and help her move on with the grief of having lost her best friend.

"Professor, how is Hermione?" Neville wondered, still standing in front of the desk.

Albus sighed deeply. Neville finally took a look at the man and he appeared to have not had any sleep last night or in the previous several nights.

"In truth, I haven't spoken much with Ms. Granger in the past months. She is hurting far beyond my meager means of comfort."

Neville shook his head. Harry just kept leaving his problems for him to clean up. "Do you think I should talk to her?"

"I don't think that would hurt," Albus said and then handed over a small bag. "Inspect these items and tell me if you notice anything peculiar."

Neville dumped the contents onto the surface of the desk. "Peculiar how?"

He cast a series of detection charms he'd been taught and didn't find anything of interest that he'd been taught to look for. There was a ring with a stone inlay that looked to be an old decayed signet ring, a rusted bracelet and a couple rudimentary wood carved toys.

Having found nothing with the detection charms to warm him of danger in touching these things with his bare hands he threw caution to the wind. He turned the toys over in his hands and felt nothing and noticed nothing. The same was done with the bracelet. The ring however felt warm to the touch and had a design on one side of the band that Neville was sure he'd seen somewhere prior. He just didn't know where he'd seen it.

Albus watched him with interest as he inspected the items.

"This ring is something, I'm sure," Neville said. "I couldn't tell you why. But there's something wrong with it."

"I believe you hold in your hand a horcrux," Albus said, and Neville dropped the ring.

He turned an accusing glare on Albus. "You let me fondle a cursed object with my bare hands?"

"The magic remains idle as long as you keep the band from around your finger."

"You're telling me that the only way to identify an object with a horcrux inside of it is to put your hand on it?" Neville asked with worry.

"Relatively speaking, yes."

"Relatively speaking?" Neville asked.

"The diary that contained the first soul fragment was only identified by writing on its pages. In the end, the fragment nearly possessed Ginny Weasley."

"Right," Neville said. "Some physical contact, then?"

"Yes."

"How do we know that a bit of him is in there?"

"I'm convinced due to a resistance towards my every attempt at destroying it."

"You don't know how to destroy it?" Neville asked wildly. "Don't tell me this is the power he knows not bit."

Albus returned Neville's stare. "This just keeps getting better and better. How was the diary destroyed?"

"Harry managed to stab the book with the fang of a basilisk," Albus told him.

Neville sighed. "Of course he did."

"What about the second that you're not sure about?"

Without considering choosing his words wisely Albus answered. "After examining Harry's body I was unable to find any trace of the horcrux."

"Wait," Neville said holding up a hand and squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "Harry was a horcrux?"

Albus was growing tired of the boy's antics as much as he understand the first taste of frustration towards horcruces. "I believe so, yes. The night that Harry Potter's family was murdered I believe that Thomas intended to use the significance of both Halloween and the murders to create another horcrux. However..."

"We all know the story, Professor," Neville interrupted. "Somehow, Harry survived with a bit of Voldemort inside of him?"

"I don't believe Harry was an intentional horcrux, but in the end somehow the piece of Thomas that was split off from the whole took hold of Harry that night."

Neville regarded Albus seriously. "You think that when Harry died there wasn't anything left to keep the piece of Voldemort's soul in him alive as well?"

"Yes," Albus answered, considering the fact that Harry was still alive and hidden in the hospital ward.

"But if he put the rest of his soul pieces in inanimate objects we can't count on just killing the host?"

"There exists the possibility that one other horcrux may be housed in a living host," Albus said thoughtfully.

"Really?" Neville asked with excitement. That made destroying that particular horcrux all the easier as long as they could get to the host.

"Riddle's familiar, Nagini, may be a horcrux."

"His snake?" Neville asked, remembering the files he had read on Voldemort.

"Yes."

"Okay," Neville said, filing that information away for a later time. "Do we have any basilisk fangs to destroy this ring?"

Before Albus could tell him no Neville spoke first. "No, of course not. That would be too easy. What's the magical equivalent of a basilisk bite?"

"I suggest you begin your search in the library," Albus said. "I have another matter to attend to?"

"More important than destroying a piece of Voldemort's soul?" Neville asked disbelievingly.

"Just as," Albus answered soberly. "Fawkes?"

Professor Dumbledore's familiar landed upon his shoulder and the two of them vanished in flames.

Neville put the horcrux ring back in the bag Professor Dumbledore had handed to him. He picked a drawer randomly and threw the bag in there slamming the drawer shut. There wasn't a chance in hell that he was going to walk around the castle with that in his pocket.

With no other approach other than the one he'd voiced he departed for the library to identify a magic of equivalent destructive power to the fang of a basilisk. He thought he'd find Hermione along the way and ask for her help.


	18. Coming to Terms

Chapter 157/8: Coming to Terms

"Seems I have nowhere else to go, Harry," Hermione said.

Neville stood on the opposite side of the door leading to the private chamber where Harry was being kept. He stepped back in shock at hearing her words. He didn't think she could possibly be speaking to Harry. His assumption was that she was speaking to herself and hoping the boy was listening from wherever the afterlife sent him.

What was strange though was the locked door. Why would there be a locked door in the hospital wing when no one was present for recovery? He knocked softly so as not to startle Hermione from her lamentations. One of the primary reasons he had tracked her down since last asking for her help with equivocating the magic of the basilisk fang was the matter surrounding the recent legislation ratified in his name.

He knocked three times on the door and called out to her. When she answered the door his view within was obscured do the sliver of space she had forced herself through when coming out.

"Neville," she said, surprised. "I haven't found anything for you yet."

His eyes narrowed, wondering what she was hiding. "Are you alright, Hermione? You look..."

Hermione adopted a defensive stance. "I look what, Neville?"

Neville redirected his attention to the girl in front of him. "Never mind. I actually didn't come to ask how the research was coming. I wanted to know if you'd read the papers yet?"

"I have," she replied shortly.

Neville folded his arms across his chest. Why had she unnerved him so with such simple words. He assumed he had an innate talent for bringing out the worst in women when around them. "I just wanted to tell you that I didn't have anything do with what they're saying I said."

Hermione ran a hand through her hair. She'd been worried that Neville had been spying on her and overheard her conversation. In the future more precaution would have to be taken, if not moving Harry altogether in the small chance that Neville had already begun to suspect something. In the short time that she'd spent in his company her previous experience with the boy was completely invalid. Neville had disappeared in the middle of the third week of term and when he'd returned over the Christmas holiday he wasn't the same boy who had left. Hermione was at first struck by the similarity in the change of personality and presence he arrived with; the change reminded her of Harry.

"Neville," Hermione consoled. "I'm quite aware of the propaganda scheme. I know you wouldn't ever have anything to do with Scrimgeour's machinations."

Neville didn't bother to correct that he had been trained by Scrimgeour's administration. As far as anyone knew he had been removed from school to manage the family estate.

"Thank you, Hermione," Neville said gratefully. "What are you going to do?"

Hermione laughed sadly. "They haven't given me much choice have they?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Hermione allowed. "They're using your face, not your soul."

"Maybe I should talk to Mr. Lovegood and run an article in the Quibbler," Neville speculated, thinking of the tactic they'd employed for Harry.

Hermione waved him over to a pair of chairs and the two sat. "I don't think you should bother. The ministry would only publish a riposte that Professor Dumbledore as manipulating you and once that gets out, and soon enough it will if you stay here, his support will begin to vanish much more quickly than it already is."

"You make us sound like we're holding out," Neville said, unsure of Hermione's doubt.

"Are we not?" Hermione asked.

Neville fixed his gaze on the rounded end of Hermione's right arm. Hermione in turn moved her head until she caught Neville's attention. "Staring is impolite."

Neville didn't appear phased by the chastising. "Does it hurt?"

Hermione raised her half arm. "When I forget that my hand isn't there any longer and I think about using it and try to grab something or do anything a pain shoots through my arm. Poppy calls them ghost pains. The text says the message sent by my nervous system attempts to reach my hand but at the speed that neurons travel when the message hits a dead end that's the pain I feel."

Neville was left wondering if he would see the end of this conflict with all of his limbs in tact, let alone alive. "To answer your first question though, Professor Dumbledore has allowed me to stay on at the castle. My tuition has been suspended along with any other student of questionable descent that is choosing to remain at Hogwarts."

"Professor Dumbledore has asked me to establish an independent teaching body as he and the staff must remain neutral on the issue if he's to have any footing left in the Wizengamot. The professors are going to allocate time after their daily lessons to try and educate the rest of us."

"This is such bullshit," Neville cursed. He'd been doing that quite a bit in the past few weeks of research on horcruces.

Hermione smirked. "Yes, yes it is. What about you, what have they got you doing?"

"One we're able to figure out the equivalent of a basilisk fang I'll be much further along in my task," he answered.

"I didn't ask at first, because you and I both know I needed the distraction..."

"And I'm rubbish at research," Neville interrupted kindly. "Don't forget that."

"Of course," Hermione allowed with a small familiar smile. "But the equivalent of a basilisk fang with or without its venom is an incredibly powerful not to mention inherently destructive piece of magic. What could possible be that strong to be require it's use?"

Hermione had wondered that lacking the basilisk fang to stab Voldemort with Neville and Professor Dumbledore were looking for another method of killing the monster. The memory of Professor Dumbledore tackling Riddle to the ground and stabbing him through the chest with that blade fueled her current suspicion. She wondered if that was what Professor Dumbledore was training Neville to do as it had proved quite capable of ridding their world of his direct presence for almost seven months currently.

Neville had to have Albus' permission before he brought Hermione into the fold completely. He hated the fact that without a complete idea of what she was looking for the research would take much longer, but the risk was too great. Even with a lack of Death Eater support in the castle.

"I hope to soon have the clearance to tell you completely what is going on but until then this is the way things have to be."

Hermione turned away from Neville. She wondered if they all thought she was slowly losing her mind while spending so much time in the hospital wing. "If that's the way things have to be then, then so be it. I don't hold it against you."

"Thank you, Hermione."

Neville stood. "I'll see you soon?"

"Of course," Hermione said with a fake smile while continuing to sit.

Neville exited the hospital wing and Hermione began her spellwork in warding the door to Harry's recovering room. If she'd known the Fidelus charm that would have been the first spell cast.

*****

Percy Weasley knocked on the minister's office door before entering. He didn't bother waiting for the accepting call. He was expected after all.

"There's the man," Rufus called out to those also in attendance when Percy entered. "What do you have for us?"

"This is directly off the production line," Percy answered, laying the Daily Prophet newspaper on his desk.

A centered picture of Neville while he'd been at the training compound dominated the front page. The headline read, 'The True Chosen One: In His Own Words'.

"When this is all over, we're going to have to be extremely careful," Percy suggested to those gathered.

"When this over, Neville Longbottom wont be a problem to deal with," an man Percy couldn't identify said.

Rufus finished reading the article. "Who wrote this?"

All eyes turned to look at Percy. "I was tasked with writing the quotations. A reliable reporter filled in the rest of the details."

Rufus peered at Percy and he felt that he was being inspected for some unidentifiable quality. "You my son, are to be commended. Truly a marvelous print."

Percy exhaled. "Thank you, Minister Scrimgeour."

"This is exactly what we needed," Rufus said. "Weasley, you're dismissed, take a few days off, paid time off of course."

"Thank you, Minister Scrimgeour," Percy said brightly and made his leave.

"Is he integral?" One of the men asked.

Rufus waved the man off. "Weasley is extraneous."

"Good," the man said. He then turned to the man at his left and whispered a command.

The man gave a nod of understanding and made his leave.

"I expect him to observe from a distance for the time being, Weylin," Rufus said by way of his own order.

Steven returned the order with a predatory smile. "Of course, minister."

Rufus sat in his chair. "Do not overstep your boundaries, Weylin. That also stands for the rest of you."

There were accepting nods from all the men assembled. "Now, update me on the status of the Dark Lord."

"After careful review of the consolidated memory-statements taken from those who witnessed the events of Harry Potter's death, and Albus Dumbledore's written testimony we've come to the conclusion that the Dark Lord sustained injuries that require a great deal of time for recovery," Weylin reported.

"Your conclusion?" Rufus asked those assembled. "What about your opinions?"

"Whatever his statement contains," MacDonald said, speaking for the first time this meeting, "we can be assured that something was not reported."

"Agreed," Zuger seconded. "Our goals may be aligned for the moment, but Dumbledore is renowned for playing the long game."

"I think that everyone in this room can say that received some form of tutelage from the man," Ellis spoke up. "We can also agree that Dumbledore is also known for releasing only what must be known to those who need to be informed. The facts that the Dark Lord threw Harry Potter off the rooftop of a downtown muggle high-rise and the damage he suffered for his effort are confirmed pieces of information. The speculation comes from the level of damage the Dark Lord suffered and the accurate assessment of how long he will need to recover."

MacDonald agreed with Ellis. "In the meantime we have nine, now absolutely confirmed, Death Eaters detained in Azkaban. If I could have you sign this, please."

MacDonald deftly flipped open his attaché case and removed a folder containing several documents. He passed them to Minister Scrimgeour.

"The first is an executive order authorizing the use of certain interrogation methods should current protocols prove ineffective," MacDonald explained to the minister as well as all those in the room.

The group of men in the room had all convened earlier in the day to finalize the wording of legislation. They were all aware of what the subtle words in those documents outlined. Auror's and Unspeakables would not be beholden to previous wizarding laws established to protect the most basic of rights.

Rufus signed the documents swiftly. He was eager to learn what the Death Eaters could possibly reveal about the Dark Lord's operation.

"Have we reached a consensus as to how to proceed with their criminal trials?"

Ellis, as the Chief Barrister, was the responsible for answering this particular aspect of their problem. "Yes, sir. I agree with your initial desire to hold a fair trial. However, the liberal use of Veritaserum will be enforced. There will be no opportunity for these criminals to claim ignorance of their actions."

Ellis watched a look of satisfaction settle over Minister Scrimgeour's face.

Rufus closed the folder and held it out for Weylin to retrieve. "I'm curious to know the compounding result of their sentencing should they be proved perjurers from previous cases."

"If we are able to prove their guilt in previous cases that resulted in the murder of witches they will not live to see the end of that day," Ellis said.

"We will, however, have interrogated them fully before the trials are to begin," Zuger informed Rufus.

"Gentlemen," Rufus said standing. "We have an underdetermined amount of time before the Dark Lord makes his return. If I'm correct those we have detained may be the most significant message he can make. All efforts must be made to ensure that this terrorist not make a gain after having taken such a fall. Harry Potter has bought us time, again, though I fear another eleven years of quiet are not in our future. If a boy who is not the child of prophecy destined to have the power to defeat the Dark Lord, then you and I have a chance at providing the boy who is the opportunity he requires."

"Sir," Zuger interrupted, "Mighalan is not convinced..."

Rufus glared at Zuger. "No one was convinced of Potter either. This not a single man's fight, gentlemen. Let us not forget this fact. You're all dismissed, except you Weylin."

"Yes, sir," they chorused and filed out of the office.

"Stay on your feet, Wesley," Rufus said when Wesley Weylin had been about to take a seat. "I want you to ensure that Dumbledore's organization is allowed to continue operating unimpeded by our forces."

"Sir?"

"I want as much information on the threat as possible and those in Dumbledore's ranks are privy to a level of his counsel that we are not. I would be remiss to not take advantage of his services," Rufus told him.

"I understand sir," Weylin replied.

"Not entirely," Rufus said. He then retrieved a file from the top drawer of his desk and then slid it into Weylin's hands.

Wesley flipped through the contents of the file.

"I want them approached and I want their full cooperation," Rufus said as he watched Wesley read.

"I believe I understand completely, sir," Weylin said. He placed the documents in his attaché case along with the ratified legislation.

"Then goodnight, Mr. Weylin," Rufus dismissed.

"Goodnight, Minister Scrimgeour."

*****

Albus growled in frustration at Harry's bedside. He decided that the next attempt would be his last of the evening. After spelling Harry's eyes open and failing to connect with the boy's mind through legilimency he reluctantly cast the Imperius curse, which also had no effect on the comatose body and mind. The third approach involved a necromantic ritual that the only succeeding in proving that Harry was indeed not brain-dead. With only two options remaining, that he was able to convince himself to use, a variety of pain curses were applied over a several locations.

He thought it odd that even the muggle heart monitor that Ms. Granger had insisted he be attached to registered no change in condition. The steady rhythm of beeping made no deviation whatsoever even when the curses were generalized rather than localized. For a moment the researcher in him was astounded- complete analgesia, absolutely no sensory response, zero perspiration as a result of the stimuli. If they monitor wasn't reporting that Harry Potter's heart was beating Albus would have been convinced the boy was dead rather than simply in a vegetative state.

The last attempt he made was an effort to extract memories from the boy's mind via pensieve. The practice of removing memories from a mind not your own was not easy magic even with a conscious and willing participant. The inherent problem Albus wanted to surmount surrounded the problem of extracting nonspecific memories. Harry was not conscious to select the memory for him to extract and as a result whatever he managed to remove from him mind would be random.

The problem with finding the specific memories he sought was not to be solved this night. He excitedly deposited the silvery thread of a memory into the basin of his pensieve. When he dipped his face into the contents he expected to slip through the fog and enter one of the many memories he was bound to sort until he found what he was looking for. Instead, he stood amidst the fog gazing at nothing but grey mist.

Albus removed himself from the memory. He made the determination that this was not to be the night he solved the mystery of where Harry Potter had spent his time learning the many talents he'd acquired. The memory his removed was never replaced in Harry's mind.

When the old wizard had left Tory appeared from the shadows to inspect the care of her living master. Master James had instructed Tory to find his son and determine his state. When she had, the previous night and reported to Master James the information he'd sent her to gather a new tasking had been saddled upon Tory.

The elf stood upon the chest of her master. She peeled back his eyelids and stared curiously. Her leathery hands covered his face and channeled a magic that few humans were aware elves had at their disposal. Tory had not agreed with Master James and had thought that Master Sirius would dissuade him from this course but her hope was not be realized. She liked Master Harry. Tory didn't want Master Harry to not remember her.

Harry's face glowed a pale blue while Tory channeled her magic through the young boy's mind. Master James had been right in his belief that someone would try to take from Harry his secrets. As she stood witness to what the old wizard had tried she held fast to her promise to Master James not to be seen or heard, that she would accomplish the task he set her with no one aware.

"I will miss you, Master Harry," Tory said as she took her hands from his face.

Tory popped back to the manor after having accomplished what she was set to do. In the dead of night in the hospital wing of Hogwarts no one was aware of exactly what had happened to Harry Potter. Albus Dumbledore sat in his tower pouring through his personal library determined to find a way to explore Harry's mind as much of recent information as well as a clue to identifying the power he was said to possess for defeating Thomas. Hermione Granger fell asleep in her private apartment near to Gryffindor tower with her private research journal spread open upon her chest. Neville Longbottom gasped for breath in the Room of Requirement as be continued to train for the day he knew he would die. The monitors Harry was attached to never missed a beat of his heart.


	19. Pagan Poetry

Chapter 16: Pagan Poetry

He woke to the sound of rhythmic beeping. His first sensation was a foreign presence in his skin. The first smell was sterile, he likened the scent to the altitude he was familiar with when flying above and beyond. An absence of taste was in his mouth with the dryness making opening the orifice difficult. He told his eyes to open but they failed to obey. He asked them and still they refused to comply. Even his body beyond his now open mouth was not responding to any command given.

The debate raged in his mind about whether or not he was truly awake at all. A small part of him considered this to be death but the greater rational thoughts convinced him he was in a state between the waking and the sleeping.

As time passed he discovered control over his eyelids. When the world he woke to was revealed immediate realization settled. The curtains, the machines, the linens and tubes; he was in a hospital- a regular hospital. His conclusion made very little sense to him and only stoked his growing confusion.

Still unable to move the rest of his body he laid there asking himself questions repeatedly. The most important of which to him was determining how long he had been here. He tried to calm himself with the hope that his integral role in the happenings of his world meant a speedy search was underway to recover him. With this thought of self he reasoned that he could not have been recovering here for any considerable amount of time.

His second most concern was the extent of his injuries. With the unfortunate insensate state he was in he found trouble calming his worries. Suddenly, his left index finger seized and the weight of the heart rate monitor clamped around the nail was now felt. He breathed deeply knowing that truly he was only held by a measure of time.

*****

Two days he worked for complete control of his body. On the first he'd only managed the use of his left arm. The remainder of his extremities followed soon thereafter. The mere sensation of controlling your own excretory system was a profound revelation for him.

Strangest of all, he knew, was the lack of another presence while he was conscious. No doctor, nurse, or orderly made a round to investigate their patient's condition. Their absence unnerved him to no end and led him to believe that wherever he was, was not truly a hospital.

When he could stand the intravenous fluids and all other devices connected to him were removed with care. In wonder he stared transfixed at the back of his hand as the punctured skin knit back together under an accord all it's own. He'd never been witness to his body healing without the prompt of potion or spell or muggle mend. Walking was slow coming but the familiarity and balance returned soon enough. He wasn't at all certain of his abilities and possessed no faith in testing the limits. In the wardrobe he found nothing. None of his possessions hung on the rod, no trainers waited there to be worn and no wand was to be found in the vicinity. He was constantly reminding himself not to panic and that soon enough someone would arrive and he would be delivered from wherever it is he now stood.

The idea of standing idle didn't bode well in his mind and he soon set off down the stone halls in hospital trousers and bare feet. He couldn't shake the feeling that he knew this place- that he'd walked these halls before.

The first door he found he opened without hesitation. He was desperate to find anyone. To know what was happening and where he was. Inside were children's desks and lectern, high and wide windows and another door. He knew this place to be a classroom and wondered is the familiarity was from his attendance. The door beyond the lectern was opened and well and within he found an office. A book was open on the desk but was written in a language he couldn't read. Other works lined the shelves with titles he could read but didn't understand. Graphic designs were framed and hung from the walls, a large feather was perched in a hold atop the desk but no name was present to identify the instructor who's office he was in.

He looked out the private window of the office to the grounds. What he saw made him step back in shock. He stood several stories above the ground in a castle of some sort. However, there were people on the ground moving about. He needed to find a way down to them. The window was a sealed shut when tried to open the glass and shout down to them, leaving him with the only option of finding a way down.

When he found the stairs and began his descent he came across a child. He'd tried to ask the boy for help but in return the child swore and ran back the way he had come up. He'd tried to hurry and follow but his legs were uncooperative.

"Wait!" He called, but his voice was unused and delivered in a rasp.

He stumbled down the stairs at a clip easy to maintain. Desperation consumed him. Then, as a he rounded the flat of a staircase between floors he met an old man with the longest beard.

"Harry?" The man asked in wonder.

The name was familiar to him. Was that... yes, that was his name. He remembered his name now and the man before him was... Al... or Albus, no, Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

The old man's gnarled hands went to Harry's shoulders and grasped him tightly. "My boy, you've returned to us."

The old man was all but crying. He'd said 'my boy'. Was this his grandfather or some relation? He knew his name but from where, why and why did the name bear so much meaning to him?

"We have much to discuss," Dumbledore told him. "Fawkes!"

In a ball of fire suspended in mid-air a brilliant bird appeared and hovered. His eyes widened in a mix of emotions at the appearance.

"Take us to my office please," Dumbledore asked the bird.

Before Harry could understand what was about to happen the bird landed on the old man's shoulder and all three of them were suddenly in another room standing upon a carpeted floor. The bird flew to what he assumed was the animals perch and he continued his investigation of his new surroundings.

"Harry?" Dumbledore pressed. "Please, have a seat."

The old man directed him to a chair seated in front of a great desk. Dumbledore took a seat behind the desk and seeing no threat Harry sat as asked. Even seated he looked about the room to quell the urge he felt to know how to leave this place. He had the strangest desire to know how to get out of this room. The door, the windows, the fireplace and the crystal obelisk on the surface of the desk- he was confused why he considered the fireplace with flames blazing to be an exit or why the heavy crystal other than as a tool to assault the man and then leave. Whatever the curiosities his heart was unsettled and unnerved with being here.

"Harry?" Dumbledore prompted.

He turned to face the man eye to eye and in the most recent strange turn he felt the oddest caress on his head. Harry shook his head and suddenly the sensation was gone.

"Where am I?" Harry asked abruptly, knowing his behavior was probably odd to Dumbledore.

"You don't know where you are?" Dumbledore asked, leaning forward.

Harry felt better not saying anything in return already having admitted to not knowing.

"Do you know your name?"

"Of course," he said confidently, lying. "Harry."

"Your whole name?"

Again, Harry responded by saying nothing.

"I will apologize for asking these questions," Dumbledore allowed and Harry was compelled to nod. "Though I am of the mind that other than your first name and my surname you know little else."

He continued to sit before the older man without saying a word.

"Very well," Dumbledore said at last and leaned back with steepled fingers. "Perhaps it is best for you to ask the questions you find most important and we shall proceed from there."

Harry did not at that statement.

"Yes?" Dumbledore asked and agreed simultaneously. "Then ask your questions."

Albus began recording this interaction the moment after.

"What is my full name?" Harry asked.

"Your name is, Harry James Potter," Albus answered impassively, curious to know what the boy would want to know.

"Where am I?"

"You are currently in the Headmaster's off of the Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland, the United Kingdom."

Wherever his memory was currently hiding the instincts in him said this man's words were true. That would mean that he was a wizard and that all that lunacy implied was real as well.

"What am I doing here?"

"You were recuperating from injuries sustained while fighting against the threat that is determined to destroy our way of life," Albus continued to answer evenly.

"What happened to me?"

Albus chuckled while Harry remained stoic. He felt a rage boiling in him that wanted to destroy this man. What had he done to him to warrant this anger he carried? Why were none of his memories returning in the same method that the old man's name had returned earlier?

"Harry, I was hoping when you woke up that you would be able to tell me."

That wasn't what he expected to hear.

"May I ask a question?" Albus inquired.

Harry thought asking him anything was futile but was willing if for anything to access any part of his missing memory.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

Harry thought for a moment and felt certain things. He tried to identify what he felt but that was akin to grasping fog and then something appeared in his mind. The image of a habitat in an exhibit with caged animals. He told this to the older man.

"Strange," Albus muttered.

Harry leaned back in his chair massaging his temples, desperate to remember anything.

"As far and we were able to ascertain at the time of the incident, you were involved in a duel with the leader of the terrorist group trying to take control of the government and nation."

"I was fighting this man?" Harry asked skeptically. He thought of fighting and images flooded his thoughts- men and women, different locations, chaos all around him, fending off attacks, striking... he saw himself moving in all these situations and felt connected to the actions.

"I was," Harry stated.

Albus' eyes widened. "You remember?"

Harry looked at the man. "I feel the truth of the matter."

"Peculiar," Albus said to himself and his wand shot into his grasp.

Harry immediately kicked the desk and sent his chair toppling over backward with a following roll from himself in which he crouched behind the upturned furniture.

"I am sorry," Albus said. "I had to see."

Harry stood after the apology. What had he done? He'd just reacted.

"Who am I?" Harry asked the man.

Albus looked upon him sadly from behind his desk that seemed to dwarf him. "Two years ago, Harry I was convinced I knew."

He righted the fallen chair. "Why do you say 'two years ago'?"

"I am truly sorry, Harry. You've been unconscious for almost two years now."

"Harry looked at his hands. "How old am I?"

Albus smiled softly. "A sight older than eighteen and a half."

"I was sixteen when I fought this man?"

Albus lost his smile. "He is not a man."

He wanted to ask but didn't think he would understand at the moment.

"I didn't kill him, did I?"

The question brought forth a mix of emotions. The most prominent of which was determination to have in fact done what he'd asked Dumbledore.

"No, you did not," Albus answered.

He didn't know why but he felt filled with shame.

"Although, you managed to severely damage him in the attempt."

Albus was hoping that this information would lead to some revelation in the boy. But nothing was produced.

"Where are my parents?" He asked, but the moment he asked the memory of their death assaulted him.

He covered his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Why do some memories come and others hide?"

"I suspect in time they will all return," Albus told him. "Although when they do you might find that the position you are in now to be enviable."

Harry agreed with the first part of his answer. Thinking of his parents also pulled the memory of Sirius to the surface, and shortly Remus followed and then Hermione.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted.

"She is on the grounds, Harry."

"That," Harry began. "That's good."

"Yes," Albus replied vaguely and unfortunately Harry pressed.

"You'll be reunited with her shortly, I imagine."

"What did he do to me?"

Albus stood and walked to be next to his ward. He laid one hand atop the boy's hunched over shoulder. "We do not know the full extent of damage you sustained. However, from our experience here I do not see any lasting effects. Be thankful, Harry. Other's have not been so fortunate."

"I don't know what to say."

"For now, there is not much to say. In time, when your mind has healed we shall talk again. I suggest I put you in the company of familiar faces and welcoming embraces. You will not have much long before being called upon once more. Fawkes will take you to your room."

The bird chirped approvingly and landed upon the boy's naked shoulder. "I will see you again shortly, Mr. Potter, Harry."

"Goodbye," Harry said, and then a thought came to him. "Albus."

The older man's lips smirked at the name as the boy was pulled away. He sat in his chair once more wondering how long his magic would hold out over the boy's mind.

*****

Hours later, when night had descended upon the castle Harry heard a knock on the door of his room. When he opened the door he found her on the other side with snow still in her hair and dressed in jeans a jumper and stockinged feet.

"Hello, Harry," she greeted softly.

"Hello, Hermione," he replied with a smile and pulled her to him and off the ground.

She was missing something he felt. When he set her down he saw what it was. He didn't say anything.

"Come in," he said.

She found her way to one of the sofas and sat at the end. "How do you feel?"

He wanted her to be happy to see him but she wasn't smiling and he didn't hear anything in his voice to give him that.

"Indifferent," he answered. "I suppose."

"That's quite honest," she said.

"How do you feel?" He inquired.

She crossed her legs when he sat down beside her. "Not how I expected to feel. What do you remember?"

"I remember becoming sixteen at the manor and nothing after," he answered looking toward the fireplace. "As for prior to, only flashes. There are so many pieces missing but I can do things I don't remember ever having learned."

"You remember that summer at the manor then?" She pressed.

Harry sighed. "Pieces. Flashes."

"Do you remember me?" She asked.

He looked away from the fire and into her eyes. Again he felt the caress on his scalp and under but this was a tender and known touch that he was unafraid of. "I do."

"All of it?"

She was in his head, he knew. He also knew Dumbledore had tried what he was allowing her to do earlier. She wasn't going to find what he himself couldn't so there was no fight within his mind.

"Sorry," she apologized pulling her presence from his mind.

He didn't break eye contact. "No worries. If you find anything be sure to let me know."

She finally smiled. A small smile. He was triumphant no matter the size.

"Are you going to ask?"

"Not if you don't want me to," Harry told her.

She shrugged. "I don't mind."

"Neither do I."

Her smile grew incrementally larger. She leaned into him.

He remembered this. "Do you live her at the castle?"

"Yes," she answered. "This is where I live and work."

His arm wrapped around her shoulders. "You became a professor?"

"Independent researcher."

"Anything interesting?"

"Life and death."

"Published?"

Small laughs escaped Hermione. "In time. Christ, I'm only nineteen. I brought this for you."

Hermione withdrew a slim package from the sleeve of her jumper. "Happy belated birthdays, Harry."

"My wand?" He asked.

"Open it," she told him.

He managed to remove the wrappings with one hand and revealed the gift was indeed his wand.

"I'm sad to part with him," she whispered.

"You've been using this?" Harry asked in wonder, not at all feeling the rush of power he was expecting.

"The one you bought for me was destroyed and you weren't using yours."

"You should keep this one," he said handing it to her.

Hermione denied him. "No, you need this."

He shook his head staring into the fire believing the truth of the words coming from his mouth. "I don't think I do. Hold on to this for a little while longer please?"

"Only until you come to your senses," she begrudgingly accepted.

He slipped the wand up her sleeve for her.

"It's late," she said.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Do you want to go to bed?"

"I am curious what sleep will be like."

*****

"I'm going to bring you back, Harry."

He slowly opened his eyes in the dark of his room. Hermione was pressed against his side, arm wrapped around his middle.

Lying there he wondered whose voice he heard in the dream. Though the dream felt more like a memory. Who had brought him back? Was this the same person that brought him back from his last battle with, Riddle? He turned to look at the clock on his bedside table discovering it was a little after five.

He was awake. There was no fighting his consciousness but he had no idea what to do with himself. He wasn't a student any longer. There was always the manner to return to but he couldn't remember how to get there just that he'd been. There was a well of energy itching to escape and his empty memory failed to provide what he required as an outlet.

Sliding out from Hermione's grip hadn't been simple. She'd been quite reluctant to release him when he had removed himself. The only thing he could think to do was to walk the grounds and clear his head. He had a laugh at the thought of clearing his empty head. If anything the walk would give him an opportunity to determine what to do with his situation.

When he exited the castle and entered the winter morning of Scotland he started shivering. Without thinking he gave a wave of his hand and without realizing what he'd said he was instantly warmed.

"Hmph," he grunted in absent wonder.

Although when he started walking he sped up and in a few short steps he was running and the snow before him was a vanishing. Before he knew it he'd arrived at the lake laughing in exhilaration. This is what he'd needed.

In the extreme of his vision he could see an envoy entering through the main gates of Hogwarts. His path changed and he moved to observe. In moments he saw the young man he could not mistake being Neville Longbottom. The boy had certainly come into his own. Harry witnessed him commanding the party trailing him and easily being obeyed. He could only assume that time had not been kind to Neville. Or perhaps the prophecy had been divulged and with Harry no longer present the burden fell to the only other. In the event of either circumstance neither would be welcomed with eagerly accepting arms.

He ran the route he had traveled in reverse wondering what the quickest path to Dumbledore's office would be. He wished he was able to apparate within the wards.

*****

"When you say no longer active..." Albus was attempting to ask.

Neville interrupted him. "They are gone. All of them."

"Our sources within, what have they to say regarding this new strategy?"

The younger man poured himself a drink. "When we're able to contact them I'll be sure to ask."

Albus couldn't help but connect Harry's recent awakening to the quiet coming from Riddle and his Death Eaters. "There's..."

"Nothing," Neville cut in, downing the liquor in one swallow and pouring another.

"Neville," Albus chided.

Neville finished pouring and swallowed. "Fuck off. Luna's gone as well."

Albus stood, knocking his chair over. "Abducted."

"I have to assume," Neville mocked with a fake smile and toast.

"When?"

"Mmm," Neville swallowed. "Two nights ago. Her father's only saw fit to tell me this morning."

"Everything," Neville began fake jovially, "is FUCKING FALLING APART!"

"You need to calm down," Albus warned.

Neville scoffed at the implied threat. "C'mon, Albus hit me with something. Let me know there are some bollocks still swinging underneath that robe and not shaved legs that lead to nothing."

"You've lost your wife, I..."

"SHE WAS TAKEN!" Neville roared. "That goddamned prophecy..."

Neville returned to the liquor and poured another tumbler. As the glass touched his lips a knock at the door came.

"Are we expecting anyone from the Order?" Neville asked, his wand dropping into his hand out of habit. He swallowed the two fingers of liquor and set the glass down carefully.

Without invitation Harry let himself into the office.

"Neville," Harry said, covered in sweat and feeling more alive than ever.

Without turning to look at the man Neville asked, "Albus, what the hell is going on."

Seeing no sense in explaining how he was going to explain later Albus answered his second plainly. "Harry Potter woke up yesterday."

"Which next you're going to tell me is impossible because Harry Potter is dead because I watched him die. I saw him dead. I was there for what those two did to one another. That's what you're going to tell me, right?"

"Not quite," Albus answered. "We were able to recover him as well as Hermione."

Harry now knew that Hermione had been there when he'd last fought Riddle. He wondered if that was when it had happened to her.

Neville turned away from Harry to face Albus. "How many have I had?"

"Harry?" Albus prompted.

Neville stalked to Harry and threw a fist. Harry caught the hand. He could smell the stench of alcohol. "You're drunk."

"You would be as well," He replied.

"Gentlemen," Albus called.

Harry let go of Neville's fist.

"Neville, we should bring Harry into the fold."

"I think we should fucking not," Neville said.

Albus closed his eyes. "Your reasoning."

"It's in the shape of a lightning bolt on his damned head. The fucking horcrux you told me about, the little piece of him in him. How about that? You told me yourself that this man is a direct link to Riddle, and now you want to give him unfettered access because the Boy-Who-Doesn't-Die is amongst the living again?"

Albus looked horrified at the mention of Horcrux and Harry chose the end of Neville's tirade to break in. "Albus, one, what's a Horcrux and two, there's a piece of Riddle in me?"

"Harry, let me..."

"A horcrux is a piece of a soul secured in a separate location from the whole," Neville answered quickly. "Riddle put a piece of his soul in your skull, boyo. Personally, I say we kill you for the greater good and have one less piece to deal with. What do you say, Professor?"

"Neville..." Albus began reluctantly.

Harry stood there quietly taking this in. There was a piece of Riddle's soul within him?

Neville scoffed. "Of course, you disagree. You haven't agreed with the last three plans to destroy those damned things that I designed but they all worked didn't they. Why won't this one?"

Most the things Harry had done in the last day and a half he hadn't been aware of how he'd done, just that he could. Currently, he was retreating into himself in search of this piece that didn't belong. If he could find where the piece was he was certain he would be able to exorcise the fragment.

"Neville, I will not condone the sacrifice of an innocent life," Albus denounced.

"INNOCENT?" Neville barked. "You think this piece of shite is innocent? Albus, he's got more blood on his hands than I do!"

"You are not in a state to discuss this rationally," Albus declared with a tone of finality.

Neville threw his hands up in frustration. "Of course I'm not. This needs to be discussed passionately. You rationally discuss the death of a life is murder."

"Go home, Neville. When you have any intelligence as to what Riddle is planning, contact me as I shall you."

Neville looked to Harry who stood as still as a statue and back to Albus. "Good day, Albus."

Neville took the bottle of fire-whiskey with him.

"Harry?" Albus called.

Moments later Harry surfaced. "There's not trace of an foreign soul fragment within me. I don't know what either of you two were so certain of."

Albus performed his own exorcism identification. He was unable to determine anything conclusive. "I cannot be certain."

"I am," Harry assured.

Albus wasn't about to enter a debate about the existence or non-existence when the only determining method was unreliable. "I will relay your findings to the rest of the order."

"I assume one day you would have discussed this horcrux problem with me?"

"Had I been able to solve the problem on my own, no, I would have not. This aspect of magic is best kept from as many minds as possible."

"How many are there?" Harry wondered.

Albus wondered whether it would be prudent to truly bring Harry in or to heed Neville's advice. He was quite aware of the skills Harry had amassed prior to his incapacitation. If those abilities were still active, yet dormant, he had nothing to fear.

"We have destroyed three," Albus answered. "That is to say that Neville and the Order have found and destroyed three."

"You didn't answer my question."

"If you are certain that the fragment within you is also destroyed, then there are a total of four destroyed."

"There's nothing but me in here," he said tapping his head.

Albus was skeptical but hoped in the possibility that when Harry and Riddle had last fought whatever Riddle had done had destroyed the piece within Harry. Perhaps this is why the boy had not died as he should have.

"Do you know how many there are?"

"There are too many."

Harry was unhappy with the answer he received.

"Do you have any of my things?" Harry asked.

Albus smiled. "I do indeed have a trunk that I never have managed to open. It was found shrunken on you when we turned you over to Madame Pomfry."

"Why were you trying to access my trunk?" Harry idly asked.

"Curiosity, I suppose," Albus answered simply. He was losing faith.

That didn't sit well with Harry. This was Albus Dumbledore, what could he possibly want with my trunk?

Harry accepted the storage device and bid Albus a good day.

*****

Harry was reading the Daily Prophet when Hermione knocked on his door that night.

"You don't have to knock," he said.

"I know."

Harry led her to the sofa.

"I have to ask you something," he said sitting the paper down next to the stack of books she'd brought with her.

Hermione looked at him expectantly.

"Were you there for that fight?"

Hermione knew which fight he was asking about and didn't bother teasing him with specificity questions. "I was there."

"Were you conscious when everything ended?"

"Yes."

"Did you see me?"

"I did," Hermione's eyes were watering slightly.

"Did you see anyone standing over me?"

Hermione nodded. "I saw Albus pick you up and disappear with Fawkes."

"Oh," he said.

"Why?" Hermione wondered. Her own curiosity was peaked now.

"I remember someone saying something and I just wondered who it was that was speaking. Now I know."

"Was he saying something helpful?"

"I suppose. He said he was going to take me back. I guess that meant to Hogwarts."

"You don't remember fighting with Albus at all do you?"

Harry stared at her in confusion. "I fought with Albus. The last time I remember being angry at the man was the night Sirius was murdered."

Hermione shook her head. "You spent the better part of your fifth year summer hating him, besting him, trying to ruin him."

"I..." Harry was at a loss for what to say.

"What you did, you did for the best though," Hermione assured him.

That comforted him somewhat. He was having trouble believing that he and Albus Dumbledore were on the outs.

"Where did you go this morning?" Hermione asked, changing the subject to something lighter.

"I went to walk the grounds and ended up running," I said starting slowly and building in excitement. "Running was incredible and I found the release I was looking for."

Hermione was smiling beautifully. She missed seeing Harry happy and he in turn was smiling brighter to see her happy. From what he gathered about the castle she hadn't been much for happiness in the past couple years. She hadn't left the castle in that time either from what was said.

"Did you unlock the secrets of the dead, yet?" Harry asked.

"My focus has shifted somewhat," she answered vaguely.

"A new interest?"

Hermione removed her socks. "You could say that. I came across something in my search that has taken me on a different tangent that I expected."

She removed her jumper as well to reveal a white tank underneath.

He took this as a sign that she was comfortable with him now.

"What else did you do today?"

"I suppose you could say that I prevented Neville from killing me in the name of the greater good," Harry teased.

"Oh, Christ," Hermione moaned.

"What?" Harry chuckled. "He's no real threat at present having diffused his reason for wanting to kill me."

"Harry, Neville has hated you since you left," she said heatedly.

Harry wondered if she truly thought of him as having left.

"I suppose the prophecy is a pretty powerful motivator when you're suddenly saddled with a task like ours."

Hermione fell onto him with her head in his lap looking up at him. "I worked for a time on translating the prophecy as it would apply to him. There were only three people who knew you were alive. When the rest of the world was decided on the fact that you were dead, Neville had to be the wizard the prophecy applied to. Albus and I were convinced otherwise but the world's faith and belief being focused on Neville cornered him. He hasn't relished what they put him through to make him the man he is today. I suppose they would have eventually done the same to you but that manor house and your trainers were well on their way to accomplishing just that. You were becoming as cold as he is today."

Harry didn't realize he had his hand in Hermione's hair as he thought about who he was and where he sat as a man now.

"I know you're considering the differences, Harry," Hermione said aloud. "Don't."

"Okay," Harry said simply with a smile. He was daydreaming while playing with Hermione's hair- his vision was through a magnified view with a cross in the center and he was keeping a particular man in the middle of the cross.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Let's go to bed."

"Okay."

Hermione curled against him as was the habit he remembered. Her half arm was draped across his middle again.

Harry was running his hand back and forth along the upper arm. "When did you lose this?"

"That same night."

"We could leave." He said aloud.

"Yes. We could."

"Do you want to?"

"At times but I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I did. I haven't any muggle qualifications in my possession, until yesterday you weren't here and I'm still not certain you are and this isn't some strange cocked up dream. I don't have any more money. Everything you left me was spent to keep you alive when you began to reject magical medicine and required muggle sustaining equipment and the research that went into bringing you back to the living. After I think of these things I realize that Hogwarts is the only place I have to go where I'm accepted any longer in the magical world and I stay."

"What do you mean this is the only place left you're welcome?"

Hermione drew in a deep breath and ran her arm up and down Harry's chest. "When Neville as decided upon it cemented a great deal of pure-blood prejudices. You were half, and tolerated at best as their chosen hero. When they were all led to believe you were slain and Riddle was very much injured but alive that you couldn't have been the one marked as his equal. No, a pureblooded wizard named Neville from the distinguished houses of Longbottom and Archer was their true hero. Those members of the wizarding parliament on the fence in the debate of blood now knew where the winning side was and they flocked."

"New legislation was passed banning the future acceptance of muggle born witches and wizards from gaining entrance into Hogwarts. Those already in attendance were to finish their current year, sit their exams and then were expected to quietly leave our world without their wand in hand. A sin tax, you could call it, was imposed on any sale to those of mixed blood with a sliding scale for the degree of impurity. So, yes, Harry, in the end this is the only place I'm accepted now. Remus and Tonks are here as well because of the law as well. Dumbledore declared this a sanctuary and made a pariah for his effort."

"What about the Weasley's?" Harry asked. "Where are they in all of this?"

Harry felt something wet on his bare chest. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were found murdered in their home. Bill and Charlie still work for the Order. Percy, works for the ministry still as the senior undersecretary to the Chancellor. Fred and George are missing and I hope to god they're alive somewhere, I really do."

"Ron and Ginny?"

"Ron is gone, and Ginny being under aged without any of age wizard or witch of relation willing to take responsibility was made a ward of the ministry. No one knows where she is. The whole family, Harry, is gone."

"Christ."

"At least you're back," she said, gripping tighter.

"I am."

When she fell asleep he slipped out of the room and up to Albus' office. He entered without preamble and strode to the fire. "Headquarters still at Grimmauld Place?"

"Yes."

Harry grabbed a handful of floo powder off the mantle pot. "Will Neville be there?"

Albus glanced to the clock. "Yes."

Harry stepped into the fire and threw down the powder calling out his destination.

Albus now knew that his plan was not going to come to fruition.

Harry stepped out of the fireplace in the drawing room of 13 Grimmauld Place. He found Neville sitting in an armchair with a bottle three-quarters full. He was glad to have caught him before he was pissed.

"I need names of operators, last known a.o.'s, known associates, logistic reports, a brief on where we stand personnel, supply and logistically. I want information and I want it now, Neville."

Neville stood with a groan but Harry wasn't about to underestimate the man or overestimate himself.

"I don't take orders from you," Neville said taking a swig.

Harry hit him square in the jaw knocking the man flat on his back. "We'll do this with difficulty then."

He grabbed him by the lapels, head butted him and stared into his eyes searching every scrap of his memory for what he needed.

When he let Neville go he slumped onto his back looking up at Harry. "At least someone in this organization has a pair. None of that information makes a difference, Potter. They've all gone to ground for some reason."

"Is the ministry still running?" He asked.

"Of course," he answered and stood.

"Then there's still an approach."

"Who's our target?"

"Weasley," Harry answered drawing up information on the giant whiteboard. "What time is it?"

Neville drew back his sleeve. "Just past 11. We know where he lives."

"Security detail?" He asked still drawing a floor plan of Percy Weasley's home.

"Two Aurors," Neville said, staring at the drawing and adding details Harry missed when digging through his memories. "He's never been a priority for us and therefore never one for them."

"Does he have a family in the house?"

"His wife Penelope lives with him but she's complicit in all of this."

Neville would just as well see her pay similarly.

"We should expect the standard ward-scheme. I think we should do this muggle." This images of various muggle firearms flashed across his thoughts.

"This is your op, your call."

"Do you want to come along or do I have to do this?"

Harry walked to the storage closet he knew to hold the muggle weapons. He took only what he needed.

"I need to go," Neville said. "This is your evaluation."

"Right, you know the layout?" Harry asked to reassure himself. Hermione said Neville was trained similarly. Then again, Harry was certain how he was trained.

"I'm prepared. One block away?"

Harry agreed. "One block away."

Without a sound they were both gone and arriving on the corner of a street in an affluent residential area.

Harry disillusioned himself with a thought, without thinking about having done so. Neville was impressed as he used his wand to do the same to himself.

Harry sniped the Auror on detail at the front door on his semi-roving guard path. The man dropped without a sound, Neville transfigured the body into a brick and laid the stone next to the base of the house. They stacked to the left of the front door with Harry as the number one and breach man. He touched his hand to the doorknob and unlocked the clasp with a channeled unlocking spell.

Harry rocked back and Neville tapped his shoulder to let him know he was good to go. One more rock and they were both entering the house. He went right and Neville went left clearing the first room with a signal to one another and progressing into the house. When clearing the kitchen they found the second Auror at the kitchen table eating. Again, Harry dropped him and Neville transfigured.

Clearing the stairs Neville took point and Harry followed. At the landing they went left and found nothing but empty rooms and closets to clear. When they entered the master suite they found the husband and wife asleep. They swept the room before waking either of them.

Neville stunned Percy and as one they side-along apparated back to Grimmauld where they removed their disillusionments and donned balaclavas.

Instead of enervating the man Harry reared back and kicked him in the stomach to end the spell.

Percy woke to the world coughing up blood and curling into himself from the pain of his assault. He didn't have the chance to understand what was happening to him before he was gripped by his hair and dragged out of the room like he was a weightless doll.

In another room he was thrown onto a chair and bound to it with his arms tied behind his back and his legs to the feet of the chair. He was openly weeping about having done nothing and begging to know what was happening to him and why.

Harry and Neville shared looks but said nothing aloud. Neville was the first to hit him in the bound position, successfully breaking the man's nose.

"I... I haven't..." Percy attempted to say with blood drooling down his face mixing with the spit drooling from his mouth.

They didn't ask a single question for the first ten minutes of the beating. Each of them had a reason for exercising their personal demons.

On the verge of unconsciousness Neville shot Percy up with an enervation charm. This succeeded in both having their source awake and in making him aware of just how much pain his body was in.

Finally Neville asked the first question. "Where are they?"

"I don't..." Percy began and Harry backhanded him while Neville took a seat in front of Weasley.

"They didn't disappear off the face of the Earth," Neville chided. "Where are they, Percy?"

He was crying hard now and again wetting himself. "I don't... but they're coming... they're coming back on..."

Harry yanked Percy's head back by the hair exposing his neck. "When are they coming back?"

"Fry...Friday. Plea... please don't... please don't... no more..."

"Why did they leave?" Neville asked.

In between tears they were able to make out the word ritual.

"What ritual, Weasley?"

Percy Weasley was losing consciousness and there weren't going to be able to keep enervating him before the man died from all the adrenaline.

"Search his mind?"

"Might as well, now."

"Shit," Neville cursed.

"Is he dead?" Harry asked, masking his wariness.

"Yeah," Neville said removing his fingers from Percy's neck.

"Will he make a good sign?" Harry asked.

Neville thought for a moment. "I doubt it. What do you want to do with him?"

"Transfigure him and put him back in his house. Let his people try to find him and the Aurors," Harry said.

Neville wasn't appreciative of Harry taking command but didn't argue. "Let Albus know to monitor for surges on the island and coastal sites on the continent. Riddle never went too far into the mainland."

Harry disappeared through the fireplace and was once more in Albus' office. He looked at the clock to find he'd barely been gone two hours.

Albus stood but Harry motioned him to sit down. "Can you monitor the magical output of various sites across the islands and on the continent?"

Albus gave a half nod. "What am I to be looking for?"

"We have information that wherever they went they went for a ritual. With that many people..."

"There would surely be a great deal of magic generated," Albus finished for him in agreement.

With his hand on the door of Albus' office he turned to face his old professor. "Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?" Albus asked, thrilled at the similarity between this Harry at the moment and the one he wished to bring back those years ago.

"Have you ever felt purged of the questions that fueled your doubts?" Harry asked.

Albus stared at the boy for a moment thinking. "Never."

"Goodnight, Albus."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Harry slipped back into his bed with Hermione at his side. He wrapped his arm tightly around her and she clung to him in turn.


	20. Worst of Best Friends

Chapter 17:

He was bested. That much was clear as he stared at Riddle during the descent.

"Just a boy," Riddle said before Harry was forced to release his grip on the ledge.

Riddle was winning; countering every attempt at an advance Harry mounted. Slowly, he was being cornered on this roof. There wasn't much for this plan any longer; the bait was set, the trap sprung and the prey clever enough to escape and turn the situation on the hunter.

He managed to land several blows against the villain but still the monster pressed his advantage. Harry didn't look behind him. His kit was in a suite downstairs so there was no flying off the roof. There was no chance of apparating or pk'ing out, Riddle saw to that. Matters were worsened at the onset when not lieutenants arrived, but Riddle alone. Somehow, he'd been aware of Harry's ruse and saw fit to pay a personal call.

He remembered Riddle being impressed with his breadth of knowledge, his courage to use the magic he was, taunting him to use the soul magic he'd released when they were last in one another's minds. None of this worked and Harry knew what little command he had over soul magic would be laughed off on this plane of existence.

Riddle allowed the muggle firearm to fire at him and seemed to casually walk through the metal that pierced his skin.

"I have come so much farther than that, Harry," Riddle told him in apparent awe of his own ability.

Harry wondered at that moment if Riddle had ever tested himself against muggle weapons. He worried that with this knowledge Riddle gained another small advantage.

Riddle fired a single spell rather than the chain of magic he'd preferred to use against Harry. The pierced his shield and he was thrown back against the concrete of the roof's observation deck, blood erupting from gasp of air forced from him.

"You were their savior, Harry Potter."

Harry struggled to raise his wand.

"Though you fought a war on both sides and you should have studied your histories."

Riddle slowly crossed the distance between them. His wand held at his side and without worry from his opponent.

"You were their savior," Riddle repeated softly, lifting Harry by his shirt. "Though, I will be their deliverer."

Harry struggled to muster any strength but his body felt numb to all commands. He focused on countering what the spell had done to his body but he root of the curse was elusive and time for identification wasn't a luxury he had.

He attempted to strike Riddle using his head but the monster rocked his head back in acceptance of the paltry blow.

"Defiant to the last, Harry Potter."

Riddle lifted him over the edge while staring Harry down. Harry did the only thing he could, channeled the soul magic once for to connect with Riddle's mind. The effort to do so was minimal when all focus was directed on successfully connecting them. This was to be his last effort he knew and if his limbs were incapable of fighting then he'd have to rely on his mind.

He skirted the barriers of Riddle's defenses desperate to keep him unaware and laced the spell where the most damage would be done once the magic burrowed deeply.

Harry managed to smile in the small amount of time he dangled over the open air of downtown London.

The door behind them accessing the roof burst open. Finished lacing the latent spell they both turned to see the intruder.

Hermione stood wand at the ready and out of breath. She screamed his name and Riddle turned to face Harry for the last time. "Just a boy."

Riddle released his hold on Harry and he began falling. He looked to where he'd last seen the murderer of his family and friends and could no longer see. In a dislocated part of his consciousness he criticized the man for never ensuring the end was successful. Though, Harry himself had no thoughts as to how he would survive this fall without access to his magic. He hoped Riddle would make Hermione's end quick, or not even bother with the girl. He had a laugh at his lunacy as the windows rushed by of the high-rise building they'd fought atop.

He heard their screams, the everyday people milling about on the streets of downtown London, the businessmen and women and tourists. He lay there for a time, wondering when death would come to take him and what would happen next. And then, the last face he expected, or wanted, to see when he was dying was staring him down in horror.

"I'm going to bring you back, Harry," Albus said, moving his wand over the broken body of Harry Potter.

Harry opened his eyes. He took deep breaths to calm himself from the dream, wondering if his dream had been real. Had what he just witnessed been the real events that occurred? Was that his last memory?

He slid away from Hermione and dressed in the dark. About to leave the room he thought twice and retrieved his wand before exiting.

Harry ran from his rooms in the east wing of the castle to the Room of Requirement in the most northern tower of the west wing. When he arrived he was certain that the exercise would work wonders in calming his senses. He questioned himself as to whether he had developed the habit for just that purpose.

Within the room he repeated the motions he had seen himself make in the dream. He recalled the emotions he had felt as he fought Riddle and the room adapted to his needs. In a detached sense he witnessed a replay of every piece of magic he'd wielded in the duel. Half of what he sent through his wand wasn't understood in the least. Spells impacted against busts and walls and destroyed a great portion of the holdings but the majority was a light show with no visceral effects to be witnessed. Those pieces of magic that seemingly had no effect he was most curious about.

In the halls of the castle he passed by students in their school robes off to classes. He idly wondered what day it was. Most of the people in the halls walked by without recognizing him and he in turn continued on in his own pursuits.

There was a vibration suddenly in his pocket. He didn't remember pocketing anything that would act in such a way. When he removed the small mirror he saw Neville's face. He didn't look like he had slept at all.

"You need to be here, now."

"Moving," Harry replied, opening the nearest window and summoning a broom to him.

When the broom smacked into the palm of his hand he only shook his head. All of this had to do with the manor and returning there was high on his list of priorities but until he could remember how to get there he'd just have to accept the things he was doing.

He flew to the edge of the grounds and apparated to headquarters.

Neville didn't waste any time and grabbed Harry for side-along apparation. They arrived within a house on the same corner they'd apparated to last night before extracting Percy Weasley.

Neville cautiously walked around the edge of the room and led Harry to a vantage point where he was handed a pair of binoculars. Harry peered through the glasses and was surprised at the amount of activity surrounding the Weasley residence.

"They're certainly keeping an eye on things," Neville whispered.

Harry checked the time on his watch. "He's an hour late reporting in. When did they arrive?"

"My source says about forty-five minutes ago," Neville answered.

"You left someone on over-watch last night?" Harry asked still looking through the glasses and attempting to identify any of the many of investigators.

"My suspicion paid off."

"Do you have anyone in the ministry?"

Neville thought for a moment before answering. "Suppose I did?"

"We need to determine where the report originated," Harry said, handing back the binoculars. "Can your supposition do this without getting compromised."

Neville seemed to be thinking how best to answer.

"Do what you can," Harry told him exiting the room and descending the stairs.

"Where are you going, now?"

"To get a car."

Harry went out the back door.

"Wait up," Neville hissed. "I'm not missing this."

Inside the detached garage they found the homeowner's auto. Harry disabled the alarm with the flick of his wand and both doors opened to his command.

"New wand?" Neville asked.

"You drive," Harry said. "Same wand."

"The plan?" Neville asked, pressing his wand to the ignition and starting the engine.

"Pull up along the curb," Harry said running his wand along his street clothes to transfigure them into a red robe of an Auror. "I'm grabbing an investigator, throwing him in the car and then you drive us out of here."

"That's your plan?" Neville asked skeptically looking over his shoulder to back the auto out onto the street into the back alley. "Really?"

Harry rummaged through the glove compartment and pulled out the car's manual. He pressed his wand to it after a few seconds the book glowed blue.

"You can make a p.k.?" Neville asked shifting the auto into drive.

Harry ignored the question. "The moment I get the asset in the car I'm going to grab you and with this is hand you're going to speed off and then say the magic word."

"Which is?" Neville said at the stop sign fifty meters from their target.

"Go," Harry told him.

"Right," Neville replied. "This is a shit all plan, you know, right?"

"Drive."

"Rodge."

They pulled up alongside the curb of the house with nearly a dozen Aurors covering the grounds and only several investigators in deep blue. Neville parked the car and pulled the portkey into his lap, keeping the auto in gear and his foot upon the break.

"Back in a tick," Harry said, climbing out of the car and opening the back door on his side in preparation.

Neville watched several Aurors turn to give them their attention but returned to their search of the grounds. One of them stood at the corner where they'd hidden the Auror turned brick and called several of his associates over.

"Shit," Neville cursed, mentally telling Harry to speed things along.

Then, just as Neville was thinking that Harry strolled out the front door with a ministry of magic criminal investigator at lead. They both were just getting into the car when an Auror called out to them and when the investigator didn't respond the event sped up.

"Drive!" Harry yelled, not bother to close the door behind him and keeping his wand trained on the obviously drugged investigator.

Neville didn't hesitate and laid his foot on the accelerator.

"Aim for that house and the end of the row!" Harry ordered, taking a firm grip of the blue robed man and Neville.

"Go," Neville said, removing his hands from the steering wheel.

The three of them disappeared as the car continued its course to crash into the house at the end of the street.

The three of them landed in a heap in the same room they'd use for interrogation the previous evening.

"You don't move slow, do you?" Neville asked. "What did you hit him with?"

"Finite," Harry intoned and the man came to his senses disarmed and naked whilst tied to the very same chair from the previous night.

"You're under arrest under article..."

Harry pointed his wand at the man's knee. "I only have a few questions. If you answer them this wont happen."

Harry broke the man's kneecap.

"Christ!" Neville exclaimed quietly out of the man's vision. His opinion of Harry was changing rapidly.

The man silently screamed in agony.

"Understood?" Harry asked, and the man vehemently nodded his head. "Good. Who filed the missing persons report at the ministry."

"I can't," the man began to tell Harry.

Harry stepped back from the man and looked to Neville. "Search his things and find his report."

Neville tossed the small pad of paper to Harry. The man turned his head to see whom else was in the room but Neville was obscured by the shadows.

Harry flipped through it before tossing it back for Neville to read through. He drew a line down the man's left pinky with his wand. "I thought we had an agreement."

The man's finger began to corrode the moment Harry's wand disconnected with the flesh. Harry silenced the screams and then knocked the man unconscious. "Let me have that back."

Neville finished reading what was written and then threw it over. Harry charged it as a p.k., dropped it in the man's lap and then said goodbye. The investigator disappeared.

"Where'd you send him?"

"Back to the Weasley house."

Neville chuckled. "Really?"

Harry gave him a small smile and a nod. "Let them wonder."

"I think our next move has to be to grab, Umbridge," Neville said, leaving the room and heading toward the kitchen. "Hungry?"

Harry followed and soon they were sitting at the kitchen island sharing lunch.

"So," Neville began around a bite of sandwich, "what's it like coming back from the dead?"

Harry picked at his chicken breast. "Confusing."

Neville nodded. "How's, Granger?"

"Confusing," Harry repeated.

"I need a favor," Neville suddenly broached.

Harry looked back at him.

"I need your help with Luna," Neville said looking away and taking a drink from his beer.

Harry pushed away his half eaten meal. "How so?"

"I know where she is and I think with you I wont have to bring anybody else in to get her out."

"We're rescuing Luna from who?"

"Malfoy?"

"What the hell does Malfoy want with Luna?" Harry asked skeptically.

"SHE'S MY WIFE! YOU FUCK!" Neville roared.

"I see," Harry replied impassively, wondering with the two had gotten together. "What do you want to do?"

"Tonight."

"I assume you've scouted the manor and have a plan," Harry said.

"Coming from you as long as I had an idea voiced, I've got a plan."

Harry smirked. Neville had a point.

"Just you and I is becoming a habit," Neville said. "Albus talks a good game, but when it's comes down to acting that's his last choice. Those of the order that are left, well, they're almost as reluctant. I almost wish Remus were still with us."

Harry set down his glass. "What happened to Remus?"

Neville took another drink. "Sorry, you didn't know. He died. About a year ago when the ministry tried to take his kid away from him and Tonks."

Harry's glass and Neville's bottle exploded.

"Fuck, Harry!" Neville said brushing the beer off his robes.

Harry was seething. Remus had a child with Tonks and was killed for him.

"What happened to Tonks and the baby?"

"Shit," Neville cursed, he hated telling people this crap. "You need to pick up the newspapers, mate."

"Tell me what happened to them, Neville or I'll put you through the window," Harry warned.

Neville smirked. He was in need of exercise. "I'd like to see that."

Harry was out off his stool in an instant but the moment he stood Neville upended the table and threw it at him with a banishing charm. He apparated around the table coursing toward him.

The moment he appeared Neville's boot landed in his solar plexus knocking the wind out of him. Neville followed this with grabbing Harry's hair and bringing his knee to the man's head.

Harry disapparated to miss the knee and appeared behind Neville and locked a hold around his neck. He drug Neville halfway across the kitchen and slammed the man's head into the door of the refrigerator and then tossed him away into the sink.

The faucet broke and water was spraying into the air soaking Neville. His wand fell into his hand from the wrist holder and in the next instant curses were being launched. Harry erected shield after shield until he discovered the pattern in Neville's attacks and then launched his own advance.

Neville was impressed and disappointed all at once. Harry didn't bother to fight back but was successfully countering his magic. He had two years on this man and still Harry didn't appear to be having any trouble. When Harry did return fire though the kitchen was further destroyed.

One moment Neville watched another spell bounce off Harry's shield and the next he was diving for cover. He watched the block of magic sail passed his head and dig out a hole in the wall where'd he been standing the size of his torso.

"What the fuck was that?" Neville shouted over the sound of destruction.

Neville regained his footing and the battle began in earnest then with each of them landed strikes as neither went on the defensive.

"I'm finished with this, Neville," Harry said and was suddenly standing in front of Neville with his fist in the man's stomach.

When Neville bent Harry knocked him out with a simply charm. They were both covered in plaster and soaking wet and Harry stumbled out of the kitchen. He only half remembered to spell the water off before he left.

"Wanker," Harry cursed as he left through the fireplace.

*****

Harry knocked on the door. He could have spelled it open or snuck in through a window but in the end of his personal deliberation he walked up the front path and knocked on the door.

A house elf greeted him. "Yes, sir? How may Non of the house of Malfoy be of service to you?"

"I wish to have a word with your master, Non," Harry said. "Is he in this evening?"

Sensing no danger from the man before him Non saw no reason not to answer honestly. "I regret to inform you but the master is not in this evening."

"A shame," Harry replied easily, keeping the creature off-base. "The mistress or heir, possibly?"

Non's eyes squinted in curiosity. What did this stranger want that both the master and the master's family could accomplish?

"No matter," Harry said and dropped the elf with sleeping spell. He levitated the creature onto a table adjacent to the main entrance doors. "Thank you."

Harry held his wand on the palm of his hand. "Point me, Luna."

Hermione had been unsure that the location spell would work for individuals and he hadn't the time for her to research the magic completely. When she'd asked who he was looking for he was surprised how easily he could lie to her. Of that he was the uneasy with how natural it seemed.

The wand spun on his palm finally landing in a general direction. He looked towards the direction and then reached in his pocket for the vials he'd brought for just this occasion. The intelligence he would be able to gather on the mansion that Malfoy owned was invaluable. He unstoppered the vials and released the gas contained within. The mapping gas quickly spread out in all directions and the parchment and quill were in tandem giving him the layout of the home.

In two minutes the mapping was complete and a map in the form of the Marauder's guide to Hogwarts Harry was equipped with a floor plan of Malfoy Manor.

He couldn't help but smirk and then completely smile when Luna Longbottom appeared on the map pulsing faintly. With the guide he made quick work of locating Neville's wife.

Sitting alone in one of the many cells of the dungeon Luna sat staring through the barred window. Her robes were tattered and held together only by her tight grip. He didn't care to think what she'd been put through or how long she occupied this cell.

"Hello, Luna," Harry said, opening the cell with his wand.

Luna looked away from the moon with a soft smile on her bruised face. "Hello, Harry. I wondered when you would come for me."

Harry smiled himself thanking whatever force there was out there that some things never change. "Neville couldn't make it, I'm sorry."

"No, I suppose he couldn't," she replied, straining herself to smile.

He wondered how much she was aware of or if she was a natural legilimens. Harry bent to pick her up.

"Thank you, Harry. I seem to be incapable of walking at the moment."

"Not at all," Harry said, carrying her out.

He hadn't managed to find the anchors for the wards on the house so he was forced to enter the way he had and in turn could only leave the very same way or through the floo. Of the two, the floo seemed the most expedient and also easiest monitored. He was of the thought that there weren't many in the world Malfoy operated within that he would trust to watch his own comings and goings.

"How shall we away, good sir," Luna asked dreamily.

"I was thinking the floo to Hogwarts, myself," Harry answered. "Unless you have any objections or suggestions?"

She was lighter in his arms that he remembered Hermione being two years prior. Malfoy was going to pay dearly. But that would be Neville's place not his.

Standing before the fireplace larger than any he could recall seeing he looked to Luna. "Would you mind?"

He indicated the pot on the mantle with the floo powder.

"Not at all," she said reaching up to grab a handful of the silvery dust.

"Shall we?"

"Yes, let's. I have enjoyed my time here, but it is time to move on," Luna waxed.

He stepped into the flames and when he turned around once more to face the room his eyes locked on Draco coming into the room.

Draco stood there in what appeared to be horror and disbelief.

"Let him know that I'm up and about!" Harry called out to him.

Luna dropped the floo powder and called out their destination only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

Draco was still standing in place as the two spun off to Hogwarts.

Once in the headmaster's office he sat laid her upon one of the chaise lounges. "Professor, would you mind taking her to the infirmary?"

He didn't know why he was surprised at all. "What have you been doing, Harry?"

Harry looked him dead in the eye while holding Luna's hand. "Fixing other people's mistakes."

Albus almost took a step back recalling the words of Harry's correspondence of two years ago.

"Albus?" Harry asked in worry. "Are you alright?"

"I, oh, yes," Albus said with a false smile. "Yes, thank you, Harry and I'll see her down to Poppy. She would like to see you as well."

"I see," Harry laughed.

"Harry?" Luna asked with her eyes closed.

"Yes?"

"Would you mind waking up my husband?" She asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow. He didn't know why he was surprised at all.

He returned to the fire place and floo'd to Grimmauld Place to reawaken Neville.

Once more in the ruined kitchen Harry stood over Neville and enervated the man. He toed him into consciousness.

"Wake up!" Harry shouted, rolling the man onto his back with his boot.

Neville's first action was to raise his wand against Harry who smirked in response.

"Your wife is asking for you."

"She..." Neville said. "What?"

Harry helped Neville to his feet when he lowered the wand. "She's at Hogwarts with Madam Pomfry."

"What did you do?" Neville asked with what sounded like half a mind of worry.

"Nothing worth writing home about."

"Right."

The two of them climbed the stairs to the drawing room. They left the kitchen in tatters rather than repair the damage they caused.

"Is she alright?" Neville asked calmly.

Harry didn't answer for a moment. "She'll be fine."

Harry half expected a gamut of questions but was surprised when Neville remained quiet and kept his thoughts in his mind.

They took the floo in tandem and when they stepped out in the great hall at Hogwarts Neville stuck out his hand. He had a terrible headache from the result of the fight and all he wanted was to thank Harry without saying thank you and see his wife.

Neville's eyes narrowed when he saw Harry think about whether or not he should shake the man's hand.

Harry shook Neville's hand and then departed for the library without another word. He found the doors locked but opened them without any trouble. The periodicals were the easiest to find and he began with the summer of his sixteenth year.

*****

Tonight Hermione entered without knocking. She found Harry again on the sofa staring at an old piece of parchment.

"Is that the Marauder's Map?" She asked, setting her things down.

Harry smiled up at her. "One of them, yes."

When she collapsed on the couch next to him he said hello.

"Hi," she said.

"Rough day?" He asked.

Hermione blew out a deep breath. "I don't think we should compare. I'm not sure what you've been doing these past couple of days. You disappear at an ungodly hour in the morning and when next I see you, here you are as pleasant as can be."

"Hmm," Harry replied absently. "Pleasant is your word."

"What are you looking at?" Hermione asked, turning to look at the parchment as well. "Why are you watching Draco Malfoy pace? Harry, why do you have a map of the Malfoy's home? How did you get such a map? Oh, god, this is why you asked about the locating spell, isn't it?"

"You would have agreed with me if you knew what it was for," Harry told her.

Hermione shook her head whacked him with her arm. "I doubt that. Is this all you went for?"

"No."

They sat together like that for some time before Harry broke the silence when he set the map down. "Are you ever going to tell me what you've been researching?"

"You'll remember," Hermione said absently, almost asleep. "What are you thinking about?"

"I dreamt about what happened to me last night," he said. "I saw you just at the end."

"I saw you then as well," she said solemnly, wishing that he hadn't brought that aspect to light. "I watched you fall."

"He wasn't supposed to be there," Harry said. "What happened?"

"Chance," Hermione responded.

"I don't know how I survived," Harry admitted.

"Only Professor Dumbledore does."

"Was it Riddle or someone else that did this to you?" Harry asked.

Hermione drew in a deep breath. "Voldemort. I tried to stop him after I saw what he did to you. I knew the foolishness of my actions but having just watched you disappear like you did. I don't remember what I tried to do to him but in the end..."

She lifted the remaining half of her right arm and looked at it. "He has a certain love I think for taking things from me- my mum, my dad, you."

Hermione turned to face him then. "I've taken things from him as well."

Harry was concerned. "What have you taken from him, Hermione?"

Hermione had a glint in her eye of pride. "Piece by piece I'm destroying his soul."

"You're working with Albus and Neville?"

"We're the only three left. We were."

The newspaper articles he'd finished reading earlier came to mind with the list of all his friend's names.

"How many pieces does he have?" Harry asked her, hoping she had a better answer than Dumbledore.

Hermione sat up since it seemed they were going to have a serious conversation. She then went to the kitchenette to put the kettle on as she answered. "We speculate seven."

"Seven?" Harry parroted in disbelief. "How?"

Hermione spelled the flames to the heat she desired. "We don't know the exact ritual but our last source informed us that intentional homicide was essential for splitting the soul and then a object to be used for housing the fragment was needed on hand at the time of the death. We've come to the conclusion of seven based on the personal history we've gathered on Riddle and his obsession with lore, seven being the most magically powerful number."

"Do seven pieces of soul produce a more pronounced effect for the soul?" Hermione asked rhetorically, sitting once more next to him. "We can't determine other than the physical manifestations have transformed him into what he looks like today. So far we've been able to identify four. The most recent of which was yours."

"How did you manage to remove his soul from me?" He asked, wanting to know finally if his suspicions held any water.

"Just know that we removed the fragment, Harry."

"Do I need to know?" He asked.

"No. The process holds no bearing on you whatsoever now."

The teakettle whistled and Hermione went to fetch herself her drink.

"I see," He said at last.

"Try not to think on the topic," Hermione said. "Do you want a cuppa?"

Harry shook his head. "Is my amnesia the result of the exorcism?"

Hermione actually laughed at that and he wondered why his question was funny. "Don't be silly, Harry. Your amnesia is the consequence of you being thrown off the room of a sky scraper."

Hermione instantly sobered at the words she had just spoken.

Harry however couldn't help but laugh crazily. "You should see yourself, Granger!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Don't make me douse you will this boiling hot tea."

"Spoilsport," Harry condemned.

*****

"Allow me to reiterate," Neville said to Albus in his office. "Harry bests me in an impromptu duel, visits Malfoy Manor, rescues Luna somehow in the maze we know to be that fortress, returns her to you, wakes me up and then that brings us here. Is that all I've missed?"

Albus pinched the bridge of his nose. His spectacles had long since been removed and his ached awfully for which no potion he had imbibed so far had soothed. "With the exception of Percy Weasley having gone missing along with his security detachment, and then the abduction and somewhat quick return of a tortured criminal investigator at the scene of said missing person, yes, that is all."

"Do you mind informing me what you and Harry have been up to?" Albus inquired.

"We're becoming the worst of best friends," Neville riposted.

"Let me remind you that we do not employ the criminal tactics of those we seek to bring to justice," Albus warned.

Neville considered the lofty words of a man who thought he commanded from his secluded tower.

"When you decide to join the fray once more, Professor," Neville said, "and you're in command down there those words may have slightly more bearing."

"Do not lose yourself in this, Neville."

"I do what I must. Understand that."

"Understand, that the torture of innocent men..."

"Innocent?" Neville scoffed. "Complicity, Albus."

"When this is over I do not wish to see you brought before the courts on charges of war crimes," Albus said.

Neville stood and stalked towards the bar to find it missing. He turned to stare accusingly at Albus. "I believe the quote is, 'history is written by the victors'. When this is finished I sure as shit wont be a hero held up on anyone's shoulders, but I sure as shit am not going to be spit on by the people I liberate."

"Neville," Albus cautioned.

"Or what if I am brought before the courts to justify my actions?" Neville asked. "I would rather find myself in that situation than in a box carried by six men."

"I fear we have already lost," Albus spoke sadly.

"Then you have, Albus. Let your defeatist attitude destroy your resolve. Remain here in your castle caring for these people and cease your criticism of how I, and now Harry, operate in this war."

"Do you know what I'm afraid of, Albus?" Neville asked him. He didn't wait for a response. "I'm scared of winning. I afraid that when I or Harry do kill him and then destroy his organization there wont be anyone to take control and bring us into a new era. We can't go back and we sure as hell can't stay as we are. The only choice we have is to move forward and until we can rally more support moving forward is damn near impossible. Pace is going to be the trick. Are you going to be around for that? I'm even afraid that we shouldn't have let Hermione talk you out of destroying that ring on your own."

"That's what I'm thinking, Albus. For some forsaken reason I'm thinking that we might have been better off if you'd been killed by your would be sacrifice. And don't think I don't know what you've done to Harry."

Albus looked sharply at Neville.

"I read Hermione's report, Albus, his body healed in three days after all the treatments he was put through and I'm to believe that a little over two years later he doesn't remember any specifics of the summer of his sixteenth year? How much credit do you give me, or Hermione, Albus?"

"He was..."

"He was, what, Albus?" Neville inquired leaning on the old man's desk and desperate for a drink. "Doing exactly what's he's doing now. Doing what you've been letting him do under your supervision?"

"I brought him back," Albus said. "Harry was on a path that would have led him to ultimate destruction had he been allowed to continue. You were convinced of that very fact yourself."

Neville slammed his palms on the desk in an attempt to wake Albus up to the world. "Yes, I was convinced because you convinced me of the fact. I know better now. Do I like that man, absolutely not, but he's what I've got to work with and with Severus having gone dark I'm left with Harry fucking Potter as my only asset. You need to stay out of this, Albus, for now."

Albus rose slowly from his seat. "How dare you bark at me that I step back!"

"You'll be called upon when needed but you need to be as far from Harry and I as possible. We're entering territory here that will take us far from the simple decision between right and wrong. We're going to need you to pick up the pieces when it's done and no one can look at you and see you had a part of the whole of this will come crumbling down."

Albus collected himself as well as Neville when he saw the older man considering all that he had implied. "What is your plan exactly."

"We're going to burn their world to the ground."

"Do you think you have the constitution?"

"If I don't," Neville answered honestly, "Harry does."


	21. Note to Myself

Chapter 21: Memory Deterioration Doesn't Impede Natural Ability, Does It?

"This is the third time you've been disoriented in the past week," Hermione chastised.

Neville interceded on Harry's behalf. "Perhaps that's because we've been doing our job."

Harry really wished he understood what Neville meant by their job. Hermione and Neville had been debating some prophecy in front of him but he hadn't the slightest idea what any of what they said meant. This morning he had woken up with Hermione wrapped around him in bed. He wasn't even in his bed that he remembered, but in the afternoon when he'd been on the return from the library he'd walked back to that room instead of Gryffindor Tower.

"This could lead to further deterioration of his memory, Neville," Hermione warned heatedly.

Calmly, although inside his mind Harry was struggling to keep himself together, he walked to one of the parapet windows. Hermione had mentioned memory loss. He wondered if he wasn't slowly losing his. Harry slowly catalogued what he knew and remembered while his friends continued to debate.

Neville leaned across the table. "This could be a side-effect of the initial amnesia. Don't make the error of believing I haven't researched this problem myself. Whatever happened to him hasn't gone away and certainly doesn't appear to be healing. I can't think that what we've been doing is a catalyst for further damage. If anything when we're out there what he's missing in here, appears there."

Hermione wanted to explore the phenomena of Harry's muscle memory but at present was more concerned with other aspects of his illness.

Harry wanted to ask what happened to him in the first place. The last thing he remembered other than waking up next to Hermione was standing on a rooftop. He tried to think about specific memories between him and his friends. The name Ron came to mind, but he couldn't put a face to the name. He thought about why they were still at Hogwarts when he knew himself to eighteen. Why did he know some things and not others? What had happened to him? He decided to wait until Hermione and he were alone since he assumed that they were quite close these days.

"You haven't been complaining about his memory loss!" Hermione accused.

Neville scoffed at her accusation. "Why the hell would I? I'm not Dumbledore, Hermione. I don't give a damn about the method so long as I have results."

"You honestly don't think I'm going to defend the old codger, do you?" Hermione asked in disbelief that Neville would bring up a comparison of all people.

"You know what I mean," Neville said with a wave. "Harry is still capable of producing results no matter what he can't remember because in the moment there isn't a question about whether or not he knows what he's doing."

"Regardless," Hermione dismissed, "I want this problem identified before he returns to duty."

"You get twenty-four hours," Neville allowed. He then turned to face Harry. "After that he and I are active."

Harry folded his arms across his chest in defiance. No matter the fact that he couldn't remember what was transpiring in his life or the world at current, taking order's from Neville of all people set him on edge.

With his hand on the door handle he turned back to face Harry once more. "Twenty four hours, Potter. Voldemort is going to be out there doing Merlin knows what our people. I don't think I'll be able to minimize the damage much longer than that."

Harry felt obligated to agree with Neville. If, as he said, Voldemort was actively attacking then he had no choice but to agree and help Neville.

When Neville left Hermione spelled the door shut and enclosed them in a sound proof space. "How much have you lost, Harry?"

Harry sat on the ledge. "Let's start with the fact that I have no bloody clue what the hell you and Neville were discussing."

Hermione sat backwards on a chair facing Harry. "You don't remember the prophecy at all?"

He was trying desperately not to lash out at her. "I knew about this prophecy at one point?"

Hermione nodded. "Do you know how old you are and what year it is?"

"I'm eighteen," Harry answered tentatively. "I think. I don't know what year it is."

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Waking up next to you. Are you and I, together?"

Hermione ignored his question and Harry failed to detect a tell from her to answer his question one way or another. "Do you know who Thomas Riddle is?"

The face of a man that resembled more of a snake than a human flashed in his mind and he knew he was fighting against this thing. "I know I'm fighting him."

He assumed that Thomas Riddle was whom Neville was talking about when he mentioned the name Voldemort. Why else would both of them place so much emphasis on those particular names?

Hermione continued to question him on dates, places, people, and all manner of topics. He found himself able to answer her abstract questions but the people and places she told him he knew and had been to was nothing but a blank.

She absented herself for a moment when he thought they were done with his interrogation. When Hermione returned he intended to ask her the many questions that he wanted answered.

Hermione returned with a vial of pink potion in his grip. She handed the glass tube to him. "I want you to drink this, Harry."

"What is this?" He asked, eyeing the contents and questioning her intentions.

Hermione had always been his friend. This fact he felt to be true, but what was she trying to feed him?

"That's a neurotrophin potion designed to preserve the surviving protein cells in your brain and stimulate regeneration of those that have obviously deteriorated," Hermione explained.

Harry uncorked the vial and swallowed the contents. "I trust you, don't I?"

Hermione smiled sadly.

Harry knew that expression on her face. "You're the only one I trust, aren't you?"

His memory loss was leading him towards complete confusion. There were things he knew by instinct. Somehow he knew exactly what they meant. Then, just as strangely he'd forgotten the events of his life and those in it.

Hermione took the vial from him. "Any improvement?"

"I'll let you know," he told her. "If this does regenerate my memories will they last?"

Hermione shook her head. "The effect will be temporary. How long... I don't know."

"Do you know what's happening to me?" He asked softly.

"Let's go for a walk, Harry," Hermione suggested.

He agreed and opened the door for her. When standing at her right he attempted to take her hand thinking that they were as close as he assumed. His hand swung the air and he played off the action by shifting to her left side and taking the hand he could. Harry hoped that he would remember what happened to her, and wouldn't have to ask since he assumed he had before and thought that wasn't to be an enjoyable memory.

That night he stood in front of the mirror in his private bathroom. He wrote notes to himself and charmed them to stick around the edges of the glass. Significant events, names, and information were hand written to remind him should the potion Hermione had given him earlier fail. He truly hoped that he didn't forget all that he had relearned today or further lost his memory.

An hour later he was lying in bed staring at the ceiling in the dark. The idea that if he didn't fall asleep his mind wouldn't turn off and therefore wouldn't have the opportunity to forget anything. Harry didn't feel particularly tired anyway. Thoughts of Voldemort, Neville, Professor Dumbledore and Hermione continued to make him consider his life. In this rare position one of the consequences was the chance to objectively evaluate his life. With the information Hermione had provided he'd had a fairly hectic life. He questioned Hermione's many accounts of his near death but when she'd accused him of having a hero complex the denouncement put her tales in a believable perspective.

Harry was just beginning to doze off when the door to his bedroom slowly opened. He watched Hermione creep through the slim opening wearing nothing but an oversized shift.

"Hermione?"

She slid into bed and laid on her side looking at him on his back. "I thought you'd be asleep."

"You were waiting for me to fall asleep?"

"I didn't want this to be awkward for you," she whispered.

He interlaced his fingers behind his head. "I don't feel that at all."

Her curiosity dictated that she ask how he felt. She almost felt ashamed at the thought that this was somehow taking advantage of Harry. The strangest thought she had though was that even with Harry's initial amnesia and now with his deterioration he remained at his core the man she knew and supported- he hadn't changed at all.

"Good," Hermione said. "How do you feel?"

Harry didn't think about his answer before telling her. "I feel comfortable."

Hermione took her familiar place at his side and placed her head on his chest. "As do I."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

Later, when she was still asleep and he was desperately trying to keep himself awake a soft hiss whispered in his ear. He was sure he heard his name and then the voice increased in volume. His name was being said but by who and what and how.

The voice was followed by what felt similar to trembling fingers running across his scalp. He knew this sensation. Someone was trying to invade his mind, Voldemort. Without realizing how he sealed off his mind and the invasion ceased.

Absently, while falling asleep, Harry was impressed with himself and thinking about what else he could do.

*****

When Harry woke the next morning he stumbled from his bed to his bathroom to conduct his morning rituals. He flushed the toilet and leaned against the rim of the faucet basin. Harry pooled cool water between his hands and then splashed his face. The shock served to further awaken him to the world. With his eyes closed he reached for where he knew the towel to be and dried his face.

He returned the towel to it's ring and then as he looked in the mirror he noticed the notes in his handwriting.

_Your name is Harry James Potter._

_Neville Longbottom is your friend and partner._

_You might be in a relationship with Hermione Granger._

_Albus Dumbledore knows more than he is telling._

_Thomas Riddle is Voldemort is the Dark Lord. You're prophesized to kill him._

_You are 18 years old._

_DO NOT TRUST ANYONE OTHER THAN NEVILLE AND HERMIONE_

He pulled the notes from the mirror staring at them in horror. What happened to me? Harry studied the notes and desperately tried to recall the details of the notes. What surrounded these pieces of information? When had these been written? How long had he had been having problems with his memory?

Harry collapsed on the floor of the bathroom and that's when Hermione knocked on the door.

"Harry?" Hermione called. "Are you alright?"

He didn't know what to say. "I, I don't know."

Hermione was in the room in the next instant. He was shocked to see her dressed in an oversized shirt- the note about their possible relationship clutched tightly in his grip.

She held his face by the chin with her hand. "Harry? Harry, listen to me. Do you know who I am?"

Harry stared at her in a daze. "Of course, I know who you are Hermione. I..."

His eyes strayed to her body noting the slim shape of her face, the fitness of her body, the peaks of her breasts straining through the thin washed out shirt, and then her missing arm.

"Christ, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed holding her upper arm in his hands. "What the hell happened?"

"Stand up, Harry," Hermione ordered, ignoring him.

She led him out of the bathroom and back to the bed where he was seated on the edge.

He thought for a moment before looking her in the eyes. "No. No, I don't. What does that mean?"

"That means that Madam Pomfry and I were wrong," Hermione admitted and sat next to on the bed.

"I don't understand," Harry said warily.

Hermione exhaled deeply. "Neither do I."

"HARRY!" Neville cried out from the other room and then burst through their bedroom door. "We've got to get out, now! Do you have a broom in here?"

Harry was on his feet while Neville was barricading the door shut with all manner of enchantments. "I don't know. I can't remember."

"Damnit, Hermione," Neville condemned. "I thought you were fucking supposed to fix him!"

"Watch yourself, Neville," Harry warned, rising to defend Hermione against Neville's vitriol.

"Harry, shut the fuck up and pick up your wand," Neville ordered. "I don't have time for you...

The door exploded before Neville could finish his sentence. The man was blown across the room and through the stained glass window of the tower bedroom. Several men in black robes stood just beyond the threshold of the door staring at Harry and Hermione.

Hermione spared a moment to inspect the absence of the glass that Neville had just flown through. She didn't doubt for a minute that he would land safely. Her mind worked in overdrive and she stood one step behind Harry with her wand by her side.

Harry hadn't yet summoned his wand to him but rather stood there in his boxers staring at the threat that had attacked them. He didn't know whom they were, what they wanted or if Neville would survive the fall. What he did know was that they were getting in this room.

He raised his hand and the remnants of the door they had destroyed began to float. Harry flexed his fingers forward and the splinters of the door flew the space towards his assailants. What followed that attack was nothing short of amazing.

Hermione lowered her wand as Harry closed the distance between the Death Eaters and them. To her, his movement seemed to be one step before he smashed his hand into the face of the lead Death Eater. The sound of the crunch as Harry drove the noses of two Death Eaters into their brains forced a shiver down her spine. He then wrapped a third attacker in a hold around his neck and used the wizard's body as a shield against the final Death Eater in their room. Hermione stunned the remaining wizard with the thought that they needed at least one to interrogate.

Harry had other ideas and didn't bother to consult Hermione before he crushed the windpipe of the stunned Death Eater with his bare heel.

He assumed she had clothes in their room. "Get dressed."

She complied and summoned a set of clothes to her. Harry wandlessly and wordlessly summoned his own attire and was ready to leave in less than thirty seconds. While Hermione was dressing he searched the men he'd killed. He broke each of their wands when he found nothing to identify the men. If he had time later he'd come back and thoroughly investigate whom they were.

"We need to go, now, Hermione," Harry ordered as she was pulling her shoes on.

"I'm coming."

He held out his hand to Hermione and she ran to take it. Harry led them through the castle.

"How are you doing this?" Hermione asked quietly.

"I'm sure you'll tell me later," Harry said. "Because I don't have a clue."

He knew there would be more. The very idea that four Death Eaters would infiltrate Hogwarts on their own was absurd.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked. He'd led them through a number of halls that she wasn't certain if he was trying to get to the main floor and great hall or somewhere else altogether.

"Out," he said laconically.

"We should go to Professor Dumbledore's office," she suggested.

He weighed the option of going where she was hoping to be led. "Is there something you need there?"

"Yes," Hermione answered without hesitation.

"You lead," Harry ordered, not knowing the way.

Hermione led them through the most direct route to the headmaster's office. They didn't encounter a single Death Eater. The guardian gargoyle was already standing down allowing access to the private stairwell.

He disillusioned her without warning and whispered in her ear to stay no more than five meters to his left. Whether or not she agreed with him he didn't wait around to determine. Harry took the stairs two at a time and came upon the open door of the office he assumed belonged to the headmaster.

"He's dead, is he?" Harry heard a voice ask.

"You saw me cast the curse," a second voice said.

"Indeed," the first voice agreed.

Harry made the judgment call that there were a total of two men in the room. He wished he had a flash grenade, or even Neville to help him clear the room. Luck was on his side as he silently breached the room. Both men had their backs turned to him. The first he banished across the room to impact with the stone-wall. The second man was not taken by surprise.

Hermione was astonished to see Severus Snape standing in Professor Dumbledore's office and the professor lying face down on the carpet. She prayed he wasn't dead.

"Potter," Severus whispered. "You're dead."

Severus erected a shield as Harry launched his assault. When Harry did not cease the attack he was relegated to one option. His mission was accomplished in any event. He activated his portkey and vanished.

Harry stalked to where the first man lay. He cast the Vestic curse as a variant of the killing curse to ensure the man was dead before rolling him over and searching him as he had the other four.

"Who's the man on the floor, Hermione?" Harry asked from behind the desk.

She cancelled the disillusionment on herself and rolled Professor Dumbledore onto his back. His lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling and Hermione thought she might be sick and the empty sight in them.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione answered, closing the old man's eyes.

Harry was suddenly behind her and pulled her away from the body roughly. "What do you think you're doing?"

She had tears in her eyes. The man who had given her sanctuary was dead. Why was Harry yelling at her?

"Do you have any idea what you could have done?" Harry criticized harshly, more mad at himself for not having been there to stop her. "He could have been rigged with a trap and latent curse. He could have been made a portkey! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to just put your bare hands on an body that hasn't been inspected? Use your brain, Hermione."

He didn't have time for the tears in her eyes. He hadn't meant to add to her problems but she had to understand that she was his only remaining link at present and he couldn't afford to lose her to stupidity.

Harry swept the body for what he suspected wasn't there. He didn't think the Death Eaters had had time to set a trap but he went about the process to be sure.

"I'm sorry," Hermione apologized, having wiped the tears from her eyes and now standing. "You're right, I just..."

"I understand," Harry said absently.

Hermione didn't believe him but chose not to say anything until he was done.

Harry pocketed the man's wand. The sensation of holding the heavier wand was interesting in it's obvious power and he made a mental note to inspect the tool later.

"Take what you need, Hermione," Harry said. "We can't stay here long."

Hermione quickly accomplished her task of collecting a variety of books and trinkets that she stored in a rucksack.

Harry was staring at Professor Dumbledore's body when she finished her collection. "Let's go, Harry."

Before he gave the matter a second thought he transfigured the old man's body and donned the slim silver necklace he'd made of him.

Hermione looked at him queerly.

"He deserves a proper send off," Harry told her. "We need to find, Neville in the event he requires one as well."

He went to the large window behind the headmaster's desk and opened the window staying close to the edge while he peered out onto the grounds. From the view he didn't notice any other Death Eaters. Based on their first attack and then on the headmaster he was now certain that this had been a surgical strike on someone's behalf. He was forced to assume that his note to himself about Riddle/Voldemort identified the person responsible.

"Come on," Harry urged.

Hermione went to him. "What are you planning?"

When he pulled her tight against him and silently cast a spell she looked at him like he was completely insane. "You aren't serious?"

A broom sailed into his open hand. With strength that surprised her, Hermione found herself lifted as if she weighed less than nothing and mounted on the broom in front of Harry. He wrapped an arm around her waist while the other gripped the fore handle of the broom and directed guided them to the ground below.

Despite her discomfort with flying she used her legs to maintain balance while keeping her wand at the ready. She hadn't come to the conclusion that Harry had and suspected there were more Death Eaters on the ground.

When they landed Harry discarded the broom. Hermione thought to stop him from leaving their mode of transportation but told herself that Harry would have other methods of travel.

They stayed close to the castle walls while traversing the grounds. When they stood on the ground where they knew Neville's body would be nothing was found but shards of glass. Pieces of the stained window had blood smears but both Harry and Hermione knew the evidence only supported superficial wounds Neville would sustain from having been cursed through a window.

Hermione didn't know where Harry was leading her when he set off again. He seemed to know where they needed to go but wasn't letting on. She had no choice but to comply. Later, she promised herself, she would devote time to understanding exactly how Harry's mind was working on seeming instinct.

Hermione was saved from her questions when they came upon Neville's unconscious body just within the boundaries of the forest. She watched Harry enchant a rock and then allowed herself to be taken to wherever it was that he'd programmed the portkey to deliver the three of them.

They landed in a heap upon red carpet in an expansive laboratory. Harry let his wand clatter to the floor as he shouldered Neville. Hermione knew this place once she took in her surroundings. She'd been here before.

Harry dumped Neville's body upon one of the many large workstations and stripped the man of his robe and shirt. Hermione joined him and cast a series of diagnostic charms.

"He's broken most of his bones," Hermione said, continuing her scan.

Harry didn't seem to acknowledge she'd said anything as he felt for a pulse. "He's alive at least."

"How did he survive the fall?" Hermione asked. If she could learn the answer of Neville's survival perhaps she could determine Harry's ability as well.

"Training," Harry answered, removing the wand he'd taken from Professor Dumbledore from his pocket.

They spent the next several hours in quiet companionship while they worked to repair Neville's broken body. When they were certain of their friends mends Hermione led them to the kitchen.

Hermione was washing her hands when Harry finally broke the silence. "You and I both know this place?"

She shut off the tap. "Yes."

Harry watched as Hermione explored the chill box and the pantry.

"What are you hungry for?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not hungry," he answered.

"You need to eat," she admonished and removed a bag of pasta from the pantry and set herself to the task of preparing something edible. Hermione hadn't cooked for herself in years.

"I'll stick with tea, thanks," Harry said, keeping an eye on her comfortable movement in this kitchen. "How do we know this place?"

"This is one of your homes," she told him, stirring the pasta in boiling water.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

"You brought me here once," Hermione said with hope that something in this place would spark his memory. "A couple years past."

"Does my family live here?" Harry asked.

Thinking of no better way to explain his past she answered honestly and without emotion. "No, both of your parents died when you were very little."

He thought that the news of his parent's death would mean more to him but no pain was associated with the information.

Hermione drained the pasta and served them both a bowl covered in the sauce she'd found and heated along side. "Eat."

Harry sat but wasn't about to indulge. He didn't feel much like eating after what he'd just done.

"I killed five people, Hermione," he said hollowly.

Hermione continued to eat. "I stopped worrying about you killing them a long while ago, Harry."

That response did immensely confuse him. He had wondered how he'd killed them all so effortlessly. Now he knew that he must have done that many times before.

"I'm a monster," Harry said, voicing his thought rather than keeping it to himself. He wanted to know her opinion.

Hermione swallowed before answering. "Unfortunately, you're not. What you did, what you've done is necessary. These people won't stop, Harry. They don't have rules that bind them from committing horrible acts against others. They rape, they murder, they torture, Harry. You defended us, you saved us and you do what you have to do to stop them from coming back and attacking again."

He pushed his food around the bowl with a fork. "What was the meaning of those notes?"

"Originally you suffered from what we assumed was amnesia as the result of trauma sustained fighting Voldemort," Hermione said, taking another bite.

"Originally?"

"Over the past several weeks you've been presenting other symptoms. Dizziness, disorientation, and degenerative memory loss."

"Degenerative, as in I'm slowly losing my memory?" Harry asked wildly.

Hermione reached across the table and took his hand. "Yesterday, I would have said yes. Today, your memory is almost completely gone, Harry. I don't know if this is a result of the neurotrophin I gave you or something more sinister that Poppy and I were unable to identify. I swear to you that I will find out. We will get your memory back."

"How do I...?" Harry began to ask.

"For now, we'll take your notes to another level and I'll copy memories into a pensieve that you can access each morning to bring yourself up to speed. This is only a temporary measure. My hope is that your mind will eventually stop resetting."

Harry had certain reservations about the memories that she would choose for him to review. He pushed the full bowl of food away from him with finality.

"I'm going to go for a walk."

Hermione understood that he would require time to consider all the possible ramifications. She just hoped that he quickly came to terms with the situation.

Later that day, in the early evening, Neville stumbled into the room where Harry sat conversing with characters in a portrait.

"Neville," Harry said when the painted men told him they had company.

"Harry," Neville responded and limped toward one of the chairs. "Mind filling me in on what I missed?"

"You were cursed through a window ten stories up, survived the landing, crawled two hundred meters to the forest and then Hermione and I brought you here."

He sat back with a groan. "Where is here?"

Harry motioned towards the men in the painting. "I'm told this is my home?"

"I always wondered where you summered," Neville joked. "How bad off am I?"

"Your broken bones are still on the mend," Harry said. "And you're down one kidney."

"Come again!" Neville demanded. "What do you mean by down one kidney?"

"You ruptured your left kidney when you landed, and by the time Hermione and I had the opportunity to begin repairing your wounds the renal gland was too far gone to salvage. You'd also had a collapsed lung. Did you see the potions laid out for you next to the table we'd laid you on."

"Fuck," Neville groaned. "Yeah, I really appreciate waking up in a potions lab. As if I didn't assume I was dead already, I wake up in Snape's private hell. Fuck."

"That's what I would say," Sirius seconded.

James agreed as well.

"What were they there for?" Neville asked for the debrief. "I can't assume they were solely after me."

"There were two teams," Harry said. "Ours, and the team sent to dispatch the headmaster."

Neville ran his hands across his face. The stubble on his cheeks and chin made a quiet scratching nose. "Is Albus alive?"

Harry shook his head.

"What happened to his body? He needs to be destroyed. The artifact of Albus' body would be too tempting and too powerful as an aide to anybody who got their hands on a piece."

Harry fished out the transfigured body of Albus Dumbledore and casually tossed it into the fireplace.

"Are you fucking serious?" Neville inquired. "What the hell was that?"

If Harry had done what he assumed he had had done the man had gone around the bend completely.

"Tell that wasn't..." Neville demanded. He'd held no love in the past year for the old wizard, but Harry couldn't have just done what he thought he did. "I need a drink."

James and Sirius shared a look. Their plan appeared to have much farther reaching consequences than they had imagined. They summoned Tory and decided that now was the time to fix their mistake.

*****

Hermione found Harry and Neville in what she remembered to be this home's private room of requirement. When she entered the two of them stood before the grand fireplace staring at the flames. They didn't recognize her entrance but she wouldn't have put it past them to have been aware of all their surroundings at any given time.

Her bare feet made no sound on the hardwood floor. She went to Harry and placed her hand upon his shoulder. What she saw shocked her to the core.

The men in the portrait were easily identified even from what remained of the painting. Both men in the frame stared back at the three of them without expression. She didn't know if the piece had been normal or magically animated. She didn't know why Harry and Neville were destroying the image of Harry's patriarch and godfather.

Harry felt an unpleasant comfort in the embrace of Hermione and the silent companionship of Neville. Her hand upon his shoulder reminded him that he was human, that he could still feel.

Neville turned to face Hermione. "Thank you for helping me."

Hermione offered a small smile.

"Again," Neville said. Hermione had been responsible for patching him up more often than Pomfrey.

"What happened?" She asked. The frame sunk lower into the fire and only a hint of an edge remained. The smell of burnt paint drifted faintly into the room while the majority of the smoke disappeared up the floo.

"My father," Harry said with a disgusted emphasis on the term used to describe his patriarch, "explained why I haven't any memories."

Neville decided someone not in his partner's current state would best deliver the remainder of the explanation. He did hope Harry would be able to harness this anger for a later mission.

"Seems that old man Potter and Black decided that with Harry here out of commission, there'd be too much of risk of compromise. They assumed, and on this I agree, that Albus would have direct and unfettered access to our man's brain. In truth they believed, as much as I or anyone else, that Harry was dead. Still, in the event that Albus was capitalizing on a moment they sent an elf to wipe his memory clean."

Hermione turned to stare at the hard expression on Harry's face.

"The elf formatted his brain," Neville explained with a laugh. "I don't know why I find this funny."

Harry snorted. He understood the irony.

"The bad luck of it is, Hermione," Neville continued, "the elf says that Dumbledore was in the room trying to do exactly what those two knew he would do if Harry were alive. I'm going with the idea that whatever Albus tried to do, or did, and then the elf did do gave us what we have standing here currently."

Her mind ran through the days spent at Harry's side. The days conversing with Albus. The promises he made not to meddle with Harry's fragile state. She catalogued the lies. Hermione knew better than to trust him, but he'd taken her in once again and given a place to stay in her chosen world. When she believed he'd changed it had all been a self-delusion.

"I need to know exactly what happened. What did Tory, do?"

"Tory?" Neville asked.

"There was only one elf when Harry brought me here," she answered. "What did she do? Where is she? I have to talk to her."

Again, Harry snorted. He dragged the information out of the elf before he'd killed her. He hadn't bothered to ask. Harry had used one of the many skills James had listed he'd learned here in this very house.

"She did what she could," Harry said to Hermione.

Hermione looked between Neville and Harry with a worried expression. "What exactly does that mean?"

"Whatever Albus and the elf did fucked him irreparably," Neville answered. "They'd had him on a loop and we're hoping that whatever Harry made the elf do just now will fix the problem."

"Tory!" Hermione summoned.

Neville laid a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "You shouldn't bother."

He nodded towards the fire.

"You killed her?" Hermione asked. She regretted her turn of phrase immediately.

Harry spun to face her. She stepped back involuntarily from the expression he directed towards her.

"The elf took it's own life," Neville said.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Hermione said.

Harry returned her apology with a shrug. He didn't care to think of the manner.

"Right," Neville said, clapping his hands together. "Who wants to get pissed?"

Harry sank into a chair that appeared behind him with a thought. Neville smirked when he discovered the secret of the room and did the same as Harry. He also asked for several bottles filled with whiskey.

Neville poured three shots and passed Hermione and Harry theirs. Hermione took hers before Harry accepted his. He raised his shot.

"To Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts and Asshole extraordinaire!"

They clinked glasses after the toast.

Three shots later Hermione slammed her glass on the table with a resounding clink. A shiver ran down her from the taste of alcohol she was unfamiliar with. "Neville, should you really be drinking with only one kidney?"

Neville downed another shot. "Don't remind me."

Harry laughed out loud at Neville's answer. "We've earned the right to live a little before we die, right?"

"Cheers," Neville toasted and he and Harry took another shot. "I'm glad you drink Harry, Albus would never indulge."

Harry responded by pouring the three of them another round.

When Hermione looked to Harry she felt something stir in the pit of her. Something in the recesses of her mind that couldn't be identified let her know that she and Harry had been through too much together to be with anyone else. She smiled at him and drank her shot, groaning at the taste once more wishing there were something to cut it with.

"Tomorrow morning is going to be a riot," Neville announced, downing his current shot.

He stood then and took the bottle with him. Neville disappeared with a loud crack of apparation.

"I suppose he went to see Luna," Hermione said.

Harry shrugged. He only hoped he would remember today.


	22. Xibalba

Chapter 22: Xibalba

**-The opening song on this album will set the pace-**

**Music by Clint Mansell: **_**The Fountain **_

Harry entered the library to find Hermione sitting at the piano. She played notes that illuminated his soul as dark as he knew it to be. He sat beside her and in tandem helped play the song they both knew.

With her hair down he couldn't see her face. They played for an interminable time before she was the first to speak.

"I read a story today about a doctor from St. Mungo's," she said whilst continuing to play. "He violated the truce. He had been violating the truce."

There was a great deal of information he still hadn't read up on. The truce she had mentioned was among many things he didn't understand.

"This doctor was murdering patients," Hermione said. "Patients that sided with Riddle."

Harry was playing the low ominous notes to Hermione's subtle discordant tones. "The report said he was responsible for the death of over twenty known Death Eaters. I should write the man a thank you, but I can't not think of him as a villain. Even in light of him aiding our cause."

"He was a doctor, Harry. A man sworn to a Hippocratic oath. A man sworn to preserve any life in his hands."

The pace of music increased and grew broader in scope. For a reason he couldn't explain he thought of a jungle. "We all make choices, Hermione."

"Tell me you wouldn't have done the same," Hermione said, no longer playing.

Harry transitioned the piece so he alone could play. "I would not have put them in the hospital, Hermione."

"That was your former self. You've changed I can see that. Neville can see the change as well."

"Yes," Harry said. "I'm not who I was before. I don't know who that person was or what I have in common with him."

He wasn't telling her anything she didn't know. She wanted an answer.

"Would you have killed those men if you were in that doctors position?" Hermione asked, straddling the bench to face him as he played.

Harry focused on the keys his fingers touched. "Knowing that when they were healed they would return to their beliefs and kill more people who didn't agree with them?"

"Yes," Hermione said.

Harry considered the question. "I can't see myself killing another if my life or someone I cared for wasn't in danger."

Hermione laid her forehead on his upper arm.

"When did we become the terrorists, Hermione?" Harry asked.

She laughed lightly. "You've noticed as well?"

"When I went out with Neville yesterday I saw for myself that Hogwarts had been reopened. I couldn't put a stop to the feeling that I was in the wrong now. The school has been reopened; the Ministry of Magic is operating under a man named Arnold Peasgood. If this is the truce you mentioned then it seems to be working."

"The people have fallen into complacency, Harry," Hermione said above the soft notes Harry had begun to play again. "They're tired of fighting and were offered an end with a price they think they can afford. Too soon they'll realize how wrong they were to allow any of this to happen."

"In the meantime they've called for Neville to hand himself over to ministry custody," Harry said, recalling the clipping he'd seen. "We're considering allowing that to happen so we can get an insider view of the ministry and it's administration."

"I know you're both aware what that would mean," Hermione said. "If you weren't able to rescue him in time..."

"We've considered the risk," Harry replied. "We're weighing our constitutions now."

"How old do you think we are, Harry?" Hermione asked, playing now.

Harry smirked. "Not old enough."

"If you don't let Neville go, what's next?"

"We don't have any resources, Hermione. I can't afford to lose either you or Neville and I'm reluctant to gamble as much on this approach. What we need are resources, assets, and intelligence. These raids we've gone on, are only a nuisance to the consolidated machine Riddle's fabricated."

"We could leave," Hermione suggested. "They've made their choice."

"And you've made yours?" He asked.

She looked at him. "I made my choice a long time ago."

He wondered about just what exactly she was saying. What she'd said wasn't heavily veiled and believing her seemed just as natural as any action he'd taken against the Death Eaters.

"I'll talk to Neville," Harry said, thinking about how his friend would discuss this topic with his wife.

He still had difficulty understanding how Neville could enter marriage in the midst of a war. What had driven him to attach himself so firmly to anyone while knowing that one night he might not come home? When he looked at Hermione he thought he might understand but couldn't fathom condemning anyone to such inevitability.

Hermione too thought about the conversation that would occur between Neville and Luna. Considering Luna, Hermione had little doubt that the girl would blink wondrously and answer with an unspecified decision. Neville would be the deciding factor. If Hermione was being honest with herself as long as Harry agreed with her the Longbottom's decision was of no consequence.

Harry was more interested in the question Hermione had posed rather than the piece of music they were playing. Thus, he missed the transition from Mansell to Chopin, though he cared little when he did identify the music his and Hermione's fingers produced. She was correct, of course. The wizards and witches of the world had made their decision. He knew too, that there was a dissenting voice among those who had made their peace with where their world now stood. What was preventing him from leaving with Hermione? The people wanted Neville to turn himself in which meant that should they discover him to be alive would also call for him to stand down and hand himself over. They'd both be tried by those they fought against and in all likelihood sent through the veil. Albus Dumbledore as well was dead and before him the Order of the Phoenix. The organization built to destroy Riddle's base of power, prevent him from taking control and ultimately killing him because the man was too powerful to be caged, no longer existed. Hermione, Neville and he were the only remaining elements. Of the three of them only two remembered why they were truly fighting.

When Harry thought of the reasons why he and Neville persisted in their efforts his answers failed to satisfy. When he walked among the people in disguise he didn't notice discontent, or fear, but instead he saw the complacency Hermione defined. Wasn't that what he was fighting for in the first place? He'd asked her about when they'd become the terrorists but the question had been made initially in jest, but with recent contemplations the idea that his role of hero suffered a complete paradigm shift and reinvented him as a villain.

"How did all of this happen?" He asked.

"This happened because you left, Harry," Hermione answered.

"Are we condemning everyone if we leave?"

Hermione stopped playing and straddled the bench once more to focus her attention on him. "They have the same choice as us."

"Have you talked to Neville about this before?"

"Once."

*****

The four of them were gathered around a table in the library. Hermione sat at Harry's right and Luna at Neville's left.

"Are you remembering anything interesting, Harry?" Luna asked, seemingly dazed.

Harry smiled. "I'm not forgetting anything if that counts."

Neville and Hermione shared the smile. While the efforts of the elf responsible for the loss of Harry's first sixteen years of memories were unable to restore them, she had been able to stop the magic that would erase his memory each night.

"Luna Longbottom," Luna introduced herself with an open hand.

Harry continued to be in good spirits as a result of Luna's antics. "Very nice to meet you Mrs. Longbottom."

"Likewise, Mr. Potter," Luna replied.

"The reason the four of us have gathered is to say goodbye," Neville said, taking control of the meeting. "We've each of us come to the decision that our common interests are no longer shared by the very people who first tapped us to act on their behalf. My wife and I considered the idea posited by Hermione and unfortunately agree that it's best to leave. Not that I wasn't looking forward to surrendering myself, Harry."

Harry stared at Neville. Neville had been a constant since he'd been woken. How would life differ without his presence?

"I think it's best that none of us disclose the location of our destination. Should we need to communicate mirrors will be our only form of contact," Neville said.

He looked to Luna and from her purse produced several mirrors that were given to her husband, Hermione and Harry.

Harry and Hermione pocketed the magical devices.

"In the event of an emergency you should return here and activate this crystal," Luna said and placed the small obelisk on the center of the tabletop. "The shiftkey is attuned to all of our mirrors. From experience I hope that none of us require the use of this."

Luna had maintained a convincing smile through her speech but to those assembled around her they could not help but think of the time she'd spent in captivity. Neville had flat out refused to speak of the time. Luna herself seemed to have forgotten she'd ever been taken. For the two of them their unspoken solution seemed to work. Harry and Hermione chose wisely to follow in their example.

"Are we agreed?" Neville asked all around.

Harry stood and offered Neville his hand. "You'll keep in touch?"

Neville smiled and nodded. He took Harry's hand and firmly shook it. Hermione and Luna hugged. Neville and Hermione shared a hug while Harry and Luna did likewise.

"An interesting month to be sure," Neville said to Harry.

"It is the wrackspurt season," Luna said by way of excuse.

Neville shrugged and wrapped his arm around Luna's shoulders. "Be safe and don't hit your head."

"What are we going to do?" Hermione asked.

Harry sat on the edge of the table. "What would you like to do?"

"I thought that would take longer," Hermione admitted. "I really haven't had time to think of what to do now that the decisions been made. To be honest I didn't think you or Neville would agree. I still don't think the old you would have."

Harry smiled softly. "We should pack."

"Of course," Hermione agreed. She disappeared first to collect her belongings.

Harry entered their room to find Hermione with a trunk full of clothes. She had changed into jeans and a jumper with a pair of pink converse shoes.

"The muggle world, then?" He inquired, summoning a trunk for himself.

"Easiest world to disappear in," she said. Hermione charmed her luggage shut. "We're sorted and can go anywhere in the world we like."

Harry remained dressed as he was. He was capable of blending in, in either world with his current attire. Hermione watched him disappear into his wardrobe. She thought of all the places they could go and was thankful for how easily her business with Gringotts had been. Without the goblins assistance they would have few options left available, but with the percentage of both Harry's and her accounts they'd been willing to convert to pounds in their muggle branch worries of the monetary kind were nonexistent.

Harry was digging through the drawers of an armoire when he discovered a letter. He held a piece of paper that Sirius had written on from several years ago. An effort was made to remember reading these words for the first time but nothing surfaced. He set the parchment down atop one of the counters and continued his packing. His imagination tried to produce a scene of his almost sixteen year old self discovering the letter from his godfather for the first time and how the scene would play out. Based on what Hermione and Neville had told him about his previous life he thought he would have been overcome with gratitude. When he was finished packing he dismissed the letter from his mind, his past that he wasn't tied to nor could respect didn't require another thought.

"Are you ready to tell me where we're going?" Harry asked.

*****

He sat in one of two plush chairs facing the eastern window. In fifteen months they'd yet to grow tired of exploring the world. In fifteen months they'd yet to hear from Neville and Luna. In fifteen months they hadn't looked back. Harry had been staring at the Vitava River just watching the water flow under the Charles Bridge.

No news of the English Ministry of Magic had reached them and they'd not gone searching for it. They avoided the local magic districts preferring instead to live as they had been raised with the aide of what they had been taught. Harry had thought in the beginning that Hermione would yearn to continue her education of all things magic but she had not once expressed an interest. Nor had she expressed anything other than an interest in exploring the world and it's history with him.

Hermione and he had been staying at a resort in the Czech Republic. As he sat there thinking on the memories he'd gathered the woman he traveled with slept in their bed. It was early in the morning, just prior to five, but he was awake and he had no reason to wake her. This was their second week in this particular country.

While Hermione hadn't mentioned where they had come from in all this time, Harry hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. A part of him was missing. A significant part of what made him who he knew himself to be was discontent and kept him unsettled.

Last night she had told him she loved him. He responded by making love to her and believed in their union but had not said the same words to her. How could he while he continued to lie to her. He knew she knew. He knew she knew that he knew she knew. They pretended to be unaware of the single lie between them. Which struck him to the core when she'd confessed herself last night.

His cell phone vibrated. He'd received a new text from Ben telling him they received a package for him. Harry hadn't been expecting anything and responded.

_Unexpected. Do not open._

Half a moment later a response came.

_Understood. Prelim scan shows zero. Will update if determined danger._

Harry closed his phone and replaced it in his pocket.

Hermione had awoken sometime during his musing. She wrapped her arms around him from behind the chair and nuzzled his neck.

"Stop worrying," Hermione ordered. "They'll be fine."

He didn't know if she meant Neville and Luna or Ben and the Order.

"I hope so," Harry said, raising her hand for a kiss. "Sorry."

"I don't want you going back anymore, Harry," Hermione said. "Please?"

Harry stood and faced her. He kissed her properly. For a moment he reveled in the feeling of finally being able to kiss her. "What are we doing today?"

"I thought we might just stay in bed," Hermione proposed and dropped the sheet she was using to conceal her body.

Harry grinned wickedly. "Are you seducing me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione pressed herself against him. She gripped his erection and bit his earlobe. "If fucking is the only way to keep you here with me, that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

He knew she was pissed. Hermione never swore otherwise. "I think I can be persuaded by your charms."

"Lucky me," Hermione teased and pulled him to the bed.

When Harry checked his phone next, Hermione was in the bath.

_Require your presence. ASAP._

The message had been sent hours ago. He needed to see what the urgent matter was. Ben wasn't prone to requiring his physical presence. In fact, Harry was of the mind that Ben would much prefer their collaboration they never met in person at all.

Harry knocked on the door to the bath. "Hermione?"

"You don't need to knock, Harry," Hermione said through the door.

He entered the bath and smiled widely at the sight of her covered up to her neck in bubbles. "I thought we might do dinner at the Blue Rose?"

"You've been enchanted by that particular restaurant, haven't you?" Hermione teased.

Harry smiled. He was enjoying the change brought about in Hermione. She seemed even happier of late. "Perhaps."

"Well, don't worry about reservations," Hermione said. She brought a single leg above the surface of the water and wiggled her toes. In her mind the term newlywed was the only word she could think to describe the feelings coursing through her. "I'm certain they'll recognize you on sight after the tip you left the other night."

Harry smiled and closed the door behind him as he left. He measured the time she'd already been in the bath with how comfortable she had appeared in it's warmth. In all estimation thirty minutes would be all he could afford.

He left their suite, sealed the door with a variety of interlaced locking enchantments and entered the lift before apparating. Three stops later and he stood outside number 5 Crescent Abbey. With three knocks on the front door a man named Will answered.

"We were getting impatient," Will said, taking his cloak and sweeping him for traces. "Ben's in the library with the packages."

"Ben," Harry greeted with a handshake coming into the library.

"Harry," Ben said, returning the shake. "Over here."

Ben led him to a table secluded from the observation of most the room. "We received these this afternoon."

Harry hated time differences. "Nothing sinister detected?"

He stepped around the twin packages running his own diagnostic charms.

Ben crossed his arms over his chest. "James had the idea to run them through a muggle x-ray machine. We've had a hard time believing what was in there or how they ended up here."

"Who delivered them?" Harry asked, holding the first package in his hands.

"Sam," Ben lamented.

Harry dropped the package and looked to Ben.

Ben waved him off. "Will and I are the last ones here. Sam's been detained and we've moved house."

Harry gave a nod and returned to the box and lifted the lid. He stepped back in horror.

"I'm sorry," Ben said.

He knew what he would find in the second box but still he opened it. Harry lifted his head with both eyes shut. "Christ."

"We've put out feelers for their bodies, but so far nothing's come back."

"I never should have gotten myself involved again," Harry said to himself.

Ben put a hand on his shoulder. "It's too late for that."

"I have to get back."

He replaced the lit and shrank the boxes.

"Will you be available?" Ben asked. He knew the man would be.

Harry pocketed the boxes and disappeared from the house without a sound. He reappeared in the garden of the only home he knew. Beneath a large oak he excavated two graves and each box separately before refilling the them with dirt by hand.

As he buried them he thought how he would tell Hermione. He debated whether he would tell her at all. He debated ever coming back to the world as he had. This was simply one more reason to stay away. Thoughts of what he was trying to achieve and how strong his resolve was took precedence over all others.

He stood then and stared down at the twin plots of disturbed Earth. Two smooth rounds rocks engraved with their names were the only markings he made.

"Neville, Luna," Harry said looking at one grave and then the other. "I don't know how they found you and if they'll find us. I'm glad we were able to buy ourselves the time we had. I'm sorry, I just don't trust anyone else to stop him."

Returning to Hermione became his priority then. They needed to move. There existed no doubt in his mind that she would be their next target.

Harry reappeared in the bedroom of their hotel suite. He took a moment to compose himself and changed clothes. "Hermione?"

"Harry?" She called back.

He entered the bathroom at the same moment she was stepping out of the bath. A wicked grin grew on her face.

"We need to leave," he said.

Her grin disappeared. "What did you do?"

"I'm sorry," he said, grabbing a towel and drying her off to speed up the process. "Get dressed."

Hermione didn't argue. The quicker she did as he asked the sooner they were somewhere else where she could focus his attention towards answering questions.

Harry packed their luggage and stood waiting for Hermione to finish getting dressed.

"I knew this would happen," she muttered angrily. "I knew you couldn't stay away. I didn't say anything, but we both knew what was happening. You hadn't compromised us. You hadn't put us in any danger and you always returned."

"Hermione," Harry began.

"Shut up, Harry," Hermione snapped. "You don't get to speak yet. Let's go."

She grabbed his arm and he apparated them to the second location they'd been when they began their journey. Despite herself, she smiled when they appeared in the De Gaul International Airport.

"I'll find us a flight," he said but was halted in his decision when she hooked his arm.

"You're going to return to the hotel and wipe the computer record clean, first. Then you're going to return to me here and then we'll pick a flight. Give me your phone."

Harry handed her the phone and waited to see what she intended to do.

"Go, Harry."

He growled in frustration but disappeared. When he again found her sitting in the terminal still on the phone only the tail end of the conversation was discernible.

"Come with me," she dictated, carrying her own bag.

Hermione led them through the airport to the satellite location of the Bank of England. "I'm Hermione Granger and this is Harry Potter."

The teller on duty gave a nod having just finished his own conversation with a powerful account manager from the bank's headquarters. "May I see some identification please?"

They produced their passports and the teller gave an acceptable nod when they revealed the proper stamps of authenticity while held under his authenticating light. "Thank you."

Hermione and Harry returned their passports to their respective pockets. The teller presented them each with a thick vanilla white envelope.

"Thank you," Hermione said.

Harry saluted with the envelope. Hermione had been quick to destroy their remaining link of being traced. If they had indeed been following the money trail then that would mean Gringotts had been compromised or had fallen completely to ministry control. Had that been how Neville and Luna had been found out?

"I don't understand, Harry," Hermione said. They were weaving their way through the foot traffic of the terminal. "I asked you not to go back."

"This was unavoidable," he explained.

Stopped and faced. "This would have been if you hadn't gone back in the first place. I know you've been sending someone money. Isn't that enough? How many people know you're alive? What happened today?"

"Neville and Luna were killed."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"I don't know how they were found. I don't know anything about their deaths. Neville and I haven't even seen one another since we all went out separate ways. Whatever fresh hell this is, is not of my design."

"Luna and Neville are dead?" Hermione asked again in shock.

"I buried them at our home."

Hermione hated herself for thinking of Harry's house when he said our home. She didn't want to think of that place as their home.

Hermione wiped away a tear. "What about their daughter?"

Harry was the one shocked at that question. "They had a daughter?"

Hermione led him to an empty spot along one of the giant windows. "Kathryn. They called her Katie."

"You've been in contact with them?" Harry accused.

"Don't you dare try to redirect this on me!"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Answer my question, Harry. What about their daughter?"

"I don't know, Hermione," he answered truthfully. "I never knew he had a daughter. I have to assume she was taken if she was with them when it happened."

"We need to find her," Hermione decided.

"That means doing things," Harry said.

Hermione slapped him. "You've been doing _things _this entire time. Don't expect me to have any sympathy for your sudden sensibilities."

"Understood," Harry replied harshly.

Hermione caught herself. Harry was never like he just was with her. He'd never been cold to her, never.

"Harry," Hermione attempted to backpedal and steer them in a more productive direction.

Harry ignored her. She was right. Hermione didn't need to explain or excuse herself. "We'll find her, Hermione. Let's go."

Harry picked up her trunk and led them to the flight board. His anger manifested in a repulsing shield of magic that parted the sea of people that stood in his way. He identified several flights that would return them to England. Apparating would have been the preferred mode of transportation. However, a professional could follow the resonating signature.

Hermione tried unsuccessfully twice to engage Harry in a conversation to clear the air between them. They had both withheld information. They both had a reason to be upset with the other but they were all the other had.

"England?" She asked, knowing the innocuous question would be answered.

Harry answered in the affirmative without a verbal response.

"Where?"

"Near London," Harry answered, despite himself. "I'm going to take a man up on an offer for a job."

"Come again?" Hermione said. "What offer? What job?"

"We'll talk about it later," Harry replied with finality.

Four hours later without a word having been passed between them they sat in the back of a taxi.

"Where we goin'?" The driver asked.

"Thames House," Harry directed.

Hermione carefully erected an illusion and silent space. "I think I've suffered enough now, Harry."

"This is all I can think to do," he said dully.

"This is all you know to do," Hermione responded.

He leaned against his door massaging his forehead with his left hand. "Yes, Hermione. It is."

"MI5?"

"A particular division, but yes."

"What are you planning, Harry?"

"I'm going to buy a big flat," Harry said. "A big one with a garden where no one knows who we are. I'm going to find Kathryn. I'm going to kill Riddle and then, just maybe this will be over."

"It was over, Harry," Hermione said laying a hand on his arm.

"Nothing was over, Hermione," he whispered. "Everything was just postponed and our friends paid the price of our inaction."

Hermione slid closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "How big of a garden?"

They pulled up alongside the steps of the Thames House and paid the driver. Their luggage had been shrunk and hidden in their pockets. In the lobby Harry had introduced himself to the receptionist as James Granger. Hermione hid her smile at realizing he'd been trading on her name.

A few moments later a man who in everyway could be described as an average man of slight build and normal height with a typical businessmen's haircut came to greet them.

"Granger," he'd greeted and only a hand on Hermione's thigh had prevented her from responding to the hail.

She'd look apologetically at Harry but he'd pretended not to notice as the agent had. Hermione didn't expect either of them to have missed her mistake.

"Does the offer still stand, Michael?" Harry inquired, cutting to the quick.

The man named Michael smiled. "Of course."

"When do I start?" Harry pressed, speeding through the process.

Michael was caught slightly off guard. "Is there something I need to know?"

"Two friends of mine were murdered recently and they left behind a daughter who's yet to be found."

Michael turned grave. "The child's age and name?"

"Kathryn Longbottom, thirteen or fourteen months."

"I'll meet you here tomorrow morning at half past five," Michael replied. "For the time being, take your girlfriend home and get some rest. Good day."

Harry thanked him and he and Hermione found a hotel. Once in their room that had been paid in cash to a skeptic concierge Harry handed over the envelope he'd been given in France.

"I want you to handle our logistics," Harry asked by way of order.

"I will," Hermione said, taking the check.

"Let's find something to eat and then a permanent residence," Harry said and held out his hand for her to take.

Hermione took his hand gratefully. It wasn't often that they fought over anything but this was the quickest Harry had acquiesced to her wanting to put an end to the fighting.

In a small café on the South Bank, Harry and Hermione sat nursing mugs of hot chocolate and staring dully out across the river. On the far side he could pick out the familiar spire of St. Paul's cathedral, overshadowed on all sides by office buildings. In front of it stretched the Millennium Bridge, smudged a dirty brown by the river as its sides were exposed in the low tide.

"Which did you prefer?" He wondered.

She blew on the hot liquid. "I liked the second house over all the flats and other's we saw."

Harry dialed the saved number in his mobile. "James Granger, here. Yes, we'll take the house on Border Lane. Cash. We'll stop by within the hour. Yes, thank you."

"We've bought our first house, Harry," Hermione said excitedly.

He smiled at her enthusiasm. To him a house was just a building. "Have you given any thought to what you want to do?"

Hermione twirled her half filled mug between her hands. She wondered how he would respond to her plan. "I want to enroll in university."

Harry wondered when she would admit to wanting to continue her education. "Which one? What do you want to study?"

"Somewhere close and medicine," Hermione answered quietly.

He took her hand in his. "Is this some plot to remain in school forever?"

She slapped his arm. "Prat."

"I actually think that's a brilliant idea. Allow me to introduce you to Dr. Granger, my..."

"Check?" the barista asked, laying the slip on the tabletop.

A quick tripping jinx was all the vindictiveness Hermione could muster against the woman who'd ruined Harry's would be definition. One day he'd finished that thought.

"Are you finished?" Harry asked while setting out a few pounds for their drinks. "We should pick up those keys."

"Yes," Hermione said. "Lets."

While Hermione stayed at their new residence Harry made himself responsible for retrieving their luggage from the hotel Savoy. Having paid the fee in advance had saved him from a repeat skeptical glance from the man at the desk. When he had returned Hermione had almost completed furnishing the house with transfigured furniture.

She followed him to the bedroom where he placed their trunks and used his wand to direct all their clothes to their proper drawers and hangers. He remarked to her that the room looked familiar.

"I'm not feeling to imaginative," she confessed.

The bedroom had been in the spirit of their last suite at the Four Seasons in Prague.

"I like it," he said, kissing the side of her head and wrapping his arms around him.

"Thank you, Mr. Granger," Hermione groused.

Harry chuckled deeply. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Hermione said turning around in his embrace. "It's refreshing how modern you are."

"I'll show you how modern I am," Harry challenged and pushed her onto the bed.


	23. Brokerage

Chapter 23: Brokerage

"Mr. Granger," Michael greeted formerly.

Harry stood. "Mr. Sigil, thank you for the opportunity."

The two men entered a lift where Michael swiped a card attached to his breast pocket across the security sensor. Once the lift began it's descent Michael Sigil leaned back against the far wall. His hands held to the grey inner railings and his long legs crossed at the ankles.

"How long have you been James Granger?" Michael asked blandly.

Harry knew who this man was and what he and this institution were capable of. He wouldn't put it passed him to have completely investigated his background now that he was an employee.

"Not that the name matters, of course," Michael dismissed. "I'm merely curious to know how successful our paranormal division is."

Harry put forth a question of his own. "Is that where I'll be assigned?"

Michael smiled at the attempt of misdirection. "We put that particular name at eight to twelve months. I'm of the opinion that you invented the name quite a while ago. We'll have to teach you of course to not use such personal information. Tell me, are you married to Hermione Granger?"

"No," Harry answered, pretending he wasn't disturbed.

Michael hummed at Harry's answer. "We'll have to change that."

In response to Michael's plan, Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Have you uncovered anything about the little girl I'm looking for?"

"Unfortunately, nothing has turned up yet," Michael answered and pushed off the inner wall as the lift doors opened. "A great problem we've discovered when trying to take a census of those in England with similar abilities to yours is that they do not register their births or unions with our ministry. Couple this with an inability to access your communities so called government we're left paying for information that for the better part is unreliable at best. I think you can appreciate the difficulty of the task, Mr. Potter."

"I would ask that you not to use that name," Harry requested, knowing it mattered little.

Michael led him down a maze of halls that he assumed was done with a purpose. "Why? You're dead, Mr. Potter. Is it that you prefer your chosen surname, perhaps?"

Harry didn't care for the game they were playing. He was here to find Kathryn and for nothing else. The price to find her was his employment, he wasn't choosing to work here of his own volition.

"This way, Mr. Potter," Michael instructed, holding the door open. "We'll in-process you and then we'll begin in earnest."

Harry stepped past the threshold.

Several hours later Harry sat outside Michael Sigils office. On his lap rested a new secure briefcase containing his new identification documents as well as Hermione's. The door opened and Michael stepped out beckoning Harry to follow him.

Harry couldn't say that he appreciated being led as such.

"I trust the in-process procedure didn't bore you too terribly?" Michael asked as Harry matched his stride. "To answer your earlier question, James, you will be assigned to the paranormal annex. Miss Erika Sampson heads the division, you'll report directly to her. Your full cooperation is expected in all endeavors."

"I understand," Harry said, committing he name Sampson to memory. He wondered exactly what they would expect of him.

As they approached the lift Michael depressed the down button. "This is where you an I part, James."

They shook hands. "Thank you, Michael."

"Consider us even?" Michael inquired with a smile.

"Not even close," Harry answered, squeezing the man's hand harder to encourage the wince he sought.

Michael blinked slowly instead of giving Harry the satisfaction.

As the lift further descended Harry wasn't quite sure he was still in the Thames House. When the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened a woman of significant presence stood before him. He guessed this to be Sampson. The woman had an oval shaped face framed by silver medium length hair. She wore titanium-framed spectacles that were secured around her neck with a stylish chain. Her black calf-length skirt and matching jacket were finished off with a pair of modest heels.

"Mr. Potter, I presume," Erika greeted with a formal handshake.

He thought that he wouldn't be able to prevent anyone from using that name. "Ms. Sampson?"

"This way," she directed.

Harry noted the only sound on this level was the resounding click of her heels against the marble floors. On the floors above and even in the lift he'd been able to hear all manner of noise.

"Steven at in-processing rang me to say you were the recent victim of a severe case of amnesia. Is this correct?"

"I am without the first sixteen years of my life, yes," Harry answered honestly.

"We're fortunate to have footage of the impetus for this amnesia," Ms. Sampson said.

"I'm not sure I follow," Harry replied. "I may not recall the specific memory but I have been told about the cause."

"I was recently reviewing the footage," she said. "Would you care to see for yourself?"

Harry hadn't been prepared for anyone to have a recording of the fight- not after Albus had died, and Hermione had only seen the very end. He chose to say nothing to the affirmative or negative and followed where she took him.

"Take a seat, Mr. Potter," Ms. Sampson ordered within the confines of her office.

"Thank you."

Harry seated himself and watched her use a remote to activate the paused scene on the screen to her left that dominated the wall. He watched his younger self from a composite of several different angles. Riddle appeared, they fought, and in the end Albus had stabbed the man.

She paused the video after he watched Albus disappear with Hermione. "I must confess I am surprised to have you sitting before me today."

"I have that effect on people," Harry said winsomely.

Ms. Sampson smirked. "I'm sure you're curious about your first assignment with us, no?"

Harry returned a small nod. "Yes m'am."

She pushed a thick yellow pad of paper towards him. He accepted the pad of paper and fished a pen out of his inner breast pocket. Harry prepared himself to take notes.

"I want to know everything about your world, Mr. Potter. I'll have archives compare our records with your updated information and we'll progress from there."

Harry didn't know what to say so he wisely said nothing.

"That will be all, Mr. Potter," Ms. Sampson dismissed and he quickly picked up his belongings. "I expect that report by the end of the week."

He tilted his head in understanding. "Good day, m'am."

She didn't respond and Harry shut the door quietly behind him aware of the silence of the floor. He assumed he was the only wizard in their employ.

"Mr. Potter?" a high voice suddenly asked him as he rounded a corner.

Harry stood there for a moment looking at a girl no older than he. "May I help you?"

"I'm Sarah, your new assistant. Let me show you to your office," she said excitedly.

Harry followed with an interested smile. She looked over her shoulder once to ensure he was following but caught him giving her backside a once over. Sarah smirked when she caught him.

Sarah held the door to his office open for him. In the first room was the waiting area with her desk. The room beyond was to be his office. Once inside she stood by the door as he set his briefcase upon the desktop. She noted that he wasn't wearing a wedding band and turned that thought over in her mind. Her new boss was quite fit indeed, if not a bit quiet and pensieve. He didn't seem like one for a great deal of conversation.

He walked around the spacious office taking in the trappings provided. They'd given him a large desk, two client chairs seated before it that made him think of Albus' office. There was the customary fireplace he assumed was not a wood-burning pit. His bookshelves were lined with tomes on various topics related to what he thought muggles thought existed in the realm of a wizard or as his department had labeled them, paranormal. The floor was hardwood with two rugs covering the client chair area and the sofa in front of the fireplace.

"What do you think, Mr. Potter?" Sarah asked. She'd spent a great deal of time rearranging the office and genuinely wondered what he thought.

Harry continued to nod his head in approval. "It's just missing one thing."

Sarah frowned. What could she have forgotten?

Harry's wand fell into his hand and he walked the length of his far wall enchanting the stone as he went.

Sarah brought both her hands to cover her gaping mouth. She'd been briefed that she would be witness to events otherwise unseen to the rest of the world, but nothing had prepared her for what was happening before her very eyes.

He had Hermione in mind when he created the window. Her recreation of the Prague suite bedroom made him think of the floor to ceiling wall-length windows of the room. When he was finished the long enchanted window reflected the view of London Bridge from the rooftop he'd just seen in the video Erika had made him watch.

"What did... what did you just do?" Sarah asked in wonder. She walked to the window and ran her hands along what she knew was stone yet felt remarkably like the glass she saw. "What is this?"

Harry frowned. He understood this to be the paranormal division of a premiere intelligence gathering institution and they'd saddled him with an assistant that had no knowledge of magic. He thought of Hermione's humorous retelling of him once explaining to her that magic is magic and considered using that explanation on Sarah. In the end he decided to keep things as simple as possible between them.

"Magic," he said simply.

He didn't say anything else and Sarah was upset to find that this was all the explanation she would receive. Somehow this man had created this beautiful scene and all he could say of his accomplishment was one word. This only made her consider what else the man was capable of. Mr. Potter had presented her with a wonderful new challenge to discover his secrets.

She thought perhaps an old idea of hers would work when applied to him. "Is there anything else, Mr. Potter?"

Harry was surprised she hadn't pressed for more answers but happy that she let him be. "No, thank you, Sarah."

"I'll be right outside, then," Sarah said and exited his office.

Harry logged on to his computer- he'd been introduced to a variety of technology by Hermione during their sojourn. Access to the Interpol missing persons roster was much simpler than he imagined now that he possessed access through an accredited system. Thoughts of Ben and Will and their attempts to do very the much the same when trying to find one of their targets made him smirk smugly. No reports resembling the description Hermione had given him of Kathryn had been reported in the previous two weeks. He posted a bulletin to have his account updated should something further in the past have been reported. Unfortunately, based on the lack of decomposition he'd seen of their remains he didn't believe more than two weeks for turn up anything.

He then set himself to accomplishing the task set him by Ms. Sampson.

Later than evening he shut down his computer, picked up his briefcase and nox'd the lights.

"Done for the day, Mr. Potter?" Sarah asked, beginning to pack up at the sight of him already setting out.

He smiled at her. "I'll see you tomorrow, morning."

"See you," she said.

Harry was in the elevator when he apparated home.

"Hermione" He called out.

"In the living room!"

He first apparated to their bedroom where he changed into more comfortable clothes. Once in jeans and a t-shirt he reappeared in the living room to find Hermione surrounding by a fortress of textbooks. Harry settled behind her and stretched his legs out on either side of Hermione's.

"What's all this?" He asked, placing a kiss on the corner of her neck.

Hermione produced a tiny moan. "There are several things I need to talk to you about."

"That sounds serious," Harry said, massaging her shoulders. He wondered if she had been studying all day.

At the conclusion of his thought about Hermione's study habits the sound of a box being pushed announced the entrance of a toddler.

Harry rested his head in the crook between Hermione's neck and shoulder. "Hermione, that wouldn't be Kathryn would she?"

Hermione could only nod.

"How long has she been here?"

"Not long."

"How did she get here?"

"I went to the manor for some books and she was there, alone," Hermione explained.

She'd found the toddler alone in the library with the emergency portkey Harry had given to Neville and Luna almost two years prior nearby. Hermione had to believe that in their last moments one of her friends had the opportunity to send Kathryn off with hope that Harry and Hermione would discover her. Only on the chance that Hermione wanted a book she knew to be at the manor did she find the little girl. She didn't want to think about the possibility of neither Harry nor her having never revisited the manor.

"Okay," Harry said. "Is she alright?"

"Nothing a bruise-salve couldn't sort," Hermione answered. She was surprised at how calm Harry was.

She was even more surprised when Harry changed the topic entirely. "What are you studying?"

"I'm trying to catch up on all I missed on normal education," Hermione said. Telling Harry that she was concerned about starting school now that Kathryn was with them wasn't something she wanted to discuss at the moment. No matter the fact that she had been trying to find the right words all day since finding the little girl.

Kathryn smiled at both of them and happily continued pushing the cardboard box. Harry couldn't help but smile in return, something about the situation, no matter how strange, set him at ease. If he couldn't have helped Neville and Luna at the very least he would take care of his friend's daughter.

"You're not too far behind, I trust?" Harry said, aware of Hermione's mental prowess.

Hermione smiled at Harry's faith in her abilities. "According to the at home exams, no, not too far behind at all."

That answer made him keep his smile. Hermione seemed happy which made him happy. "Have you eaten yet?"

Hermione thought for a moment trying to remember when the last time it was that she ate.

Harry chuckled. "I'll cook us something. What does she eat?"

Hermione looked up at Harry. "I bought her food earlier. You don't need to worry about her."

He cupped her face in his hand. "I wasn't."

Hermione flushed.

After dinner Harry returned to find Hermione getting dressed for bed. They had eaten late and both of them were tired from having an actual day of productive activity.

"I conjured a crib and set her to sleep," Harry said, stepping out of his jeans.

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said gratefully. "Do you want to talk about this?"

Harry was brushing his teeth when he mumbled, "What's there to discuss?"

Hermione pulled on a long t-shirt of Harry's over her knickers and leaned in the bathroom doorway. "I could think of a few things."

He kissed her forehead. "I owe it to them to take care of her."

Hermione was about to protest when Harry continued speaking. "We owe it to them. The issue isn't up for debate. We either take care of her or she'll be placed in a muggle group home. I don't see how that's really a choice, Hermione."

"You're unusually calm about this, Harry," Hermione said, almost critically.

Harry leaned against the marble countertop sink. "How would you prefer me?"

Hermione pushed his bare chest. "I don't know. I expected you to be a typical boy about all of this; to freak out, and yell and condemn our decision. I didn't expect you to just accept her, you know?"

Harry raised an eyebrow in amusement. "You want me to be upset?"

"No," Hermione said exasperated.

Harry took her face in his hands and kissed her. "Are you alright? You're being very confusing and you're never confusing."

"I'm not?" Hermione asked. For some reason she found this a little insulting.

"Not usually," Harry admitted. "Now, I'm sure you wanted to discuss how this would impact our lives, right?"

"You're such git," Hermione chastised. "I'm supposed to be the calm one."

"Well, I will say I am a bit confused," Harry confessed. "But, I'm much more amused by how much you seemed to have freaked out over this."

"You really are an asshole," Hermione cursed teasingly.

"So," Harry prompted.

"Well," Hermione began. "I was able to speak to one of the admissions officers at King's College and I was able to convince her to allow me to sit for CLEP exams based on my ability to pay for tuition in full upon entrance."

"Next week, Tuesday, I'll sit for those exams and should I place as I anticipate I'm going to take the next to terms to complete the pre-med requirements. Then I'll start medical school in full. If I spread out the pre-med prerequisites over the two terms I'll be able to take care of Kathryn as well as attend classes."

"Don't think I won't be involved, at all," Harry inserted. He didn't want her to assume he wanted nothing to do with taking care of Kathryn.

Hermione smiled. She led them to bed and as they settled beneath the blankets she had Harry put his chest to her back and wrap his arms around her.

"You should stop worrying, Hermione," Harry advised.

Hermione kissed his hands that she held. "I don't know how you do it."

"With you it's rather easy," Harry said warmly.

Hermione suddenly felt warmer. There was something about Harry's presence that helped ward off the helplessness she'd been fighting off all day. As soon as he was in her embrace, her questions and doubt remained, but they seemed so much more trivial when she presented them to his equanimity. When she'd initially noticed this ability she'd wondered whether or not Harry had become simply insouciant towards the rest of the world, but over the course of the past year and a half Hermione had learned otherwise. Now, with him pressed firmly against her back and in their shared bed, where she could tell him she loved him without fearing that he would reject her for admitting her feelings she felt at peace. They were a real family now, with a house and a child and their relationship. Hermione wondered what her parents would think of the life she'd built.

Hermione had begun to drift off to sleep when she heard Harry ask her something. "Hmm? What was that, Harry."

"Never mind," Harry whispered. "Sleep well."

He kissed her neck and fell asleep as well.

*****

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," Sarah greeted, standing for her boss.

Harry smiled and handed her his over jacket. "Hello, Sarah. Is there anything interesting to start the day?"

"Ms. Sampson would like to see you at your earliest convenience," she informed him.

"Thank you," Harry said and took a moment to set his briefcase in his office.

He used wandless magic to seal his door so as not to scare his secretary. Harry could have swore she winked at him as he left.

He knocked on the outer door of Erika's office and a young man showed him in. "I'll let her know you're here, sir."

Harry took a seat and waited patiently for his meeting.

The young man reappeared in a moment. "She'll see you now."

Harry stood and entered the office. "You asked to see me?"

"Yes," Ms. Sampson answered, signing a document. "I wanted an update on your progress."

Harry removed a flash-drive from his right trouser pocket and set it on the desk. "Everything I know and was able to gather is on that."

He watched Ms. Sampson lift the tiny drive. "You compiled all this data yesterday?"

Harry gave a nod. "This morning as well."

Ms. Sampson eyed him shrewdly. "Are you having trouble sleeping, Mr. Potter?"

"I just woke up early," Harry answered vaguely.

Ms. Sampson depressed a button her phone. "Jamison, have an archivist come to see me."

"Yes, m'am," a voice said through the intercom.

Ms. Sampson then removed a large brown envelope with a red stripe across its length from one of the bottom drawers of her desk. She placed the flash-drive in the envelope and then sealed the flap with red tape and initialed the edges of tape.

"Good day, Mr. Potter," Ms. Sampson dismissed.

"M'am," Harry said, standing and departing. Something within him criticized his decision to hand over the information he just had. In effect he had just committed treason.

He returned to his office and once logged on to his computer removed his request for reports on missing children. In the next couple hours he spent his time searching the various newspapers published across the kingdom for information on the instances of the magical world crossing into the muggle realm.

Sarah interrupted his reading by hailing him on the intercom. "Mr. Potter, I'm going to take my lunch. Is there anything you needed while I'm out?"

Harry pressed the button to speak. "No, thank you, Sarah. I appreciate your offer though."

"No worries," she replied and the line went dead.

Harry returned to his reading and continued to take notes on curious occurrences. A few moments later a knock came at his door. He waved it open and a short bald man in a smart suit entered his office.

The man introduced himself as Jones and shook his hand.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Jones?" Harry asked.

"I'm here to ask for your help in investigating particularly confusing occurrences across the kingdom, Mr. Potter."

"What types of occurrences?"

"Your kind, Mr. Potter," Jones said with a cheshire smile. "On occasion some of our field operatives return with a less than complete memory. We are hoping you could also help us solve this mystery. Would you mind coming with me? I see that you don't care much for abusing your lunch hour."

"Lead the way, Mr. Jones," Harry allowed, genuinely curious.

Mr. Jones, or Gary, as Harry came to learn led him to warehouse sized room filled with various men and women all busy working on various projects. As they passed each workstation Harry committed the interesting things he saw to memory. He figured them to all be engineers of a sort.

"This is the research and development laboratory," Gary informed him, shouting over the explosion of fire that almost interrupted him.

Harry was impressed with how unaffected Gary was by all that occurred around him. The next room that Harry entered a man with a pistol fired at him. He apparated behind the man and was in the process of breaking his neck when Gary prevented him from doing so by using his taser.

"Easy, easy, Mr. Potter," Gary advised, lowering his limp body to the floor. "You'll have to forgive me, but I was curious to define the exact amount of time a person with your abilities would need to escape as you had.

When Harry regained his voice seconds later, thanks to his anger fueling his magic that restored him he punched Gary in the stomach. The man dropped to the ground on his knees.

"Next time," Harry warned. "Ask for a demonstration, you son of a bitch."

"I apologize," Gary wheezed. "George, are you alright."

The man Harry had nearly killed was massaging his bruised neck. "I'll live."

Harry enervated Gary who looked at him in astonishment. "That felt wonderful!"

Harry snorted. "Wait for the crash."

"Am I too understand that what you have done was to release a surge of endorphins, an instant adrenaline rush?"

Harry shrugged. "I've never been too familiar with the intimate details."

He thought of Hermione and her ability to explain the fine details of each and every piece of magic. In that moment he smiled to himself. The men in the room took his smile to be a superior feeling over them.

Erika Sampson stormed through the doors of the Gary and George's private laboratory/office. "What in the hell is going on down here?"

"Just an experiment, m'am," Gary explained. "No harm, no foul."

Harry rolled his eyes. Erika didn't miss his action.

"You, Mr. Potter, could have killed him and would have without the interference of Mr. Jones!" Ms. Sampson sharply castigated.

Harry was astounded. He was the one they fired on first. The fact that he had the ability to respond in a unique manner they were unprepared to defend against was another matter entirely. He bit his tongue however.

'Yes, m'am," he said.

She accepted his response with a curt nod. "Gentlemen."

With that one word she exited their room. "On our behalf, Mr. Potter, I apologize."

George offered his hand. Harry took it.

"No worries."

"Really?" Gary asked. "In that case, would you mind if we, well, if we explored exactly what you're capable of?"

Harry was suddenly aware of how long the rest of the day was going to be. These two had an intellectual curiosity that seemed insatiable.

Sarah found him that evening still with George and Gary in their laboratory. He'd removed his shirt some time ago and was covered in sweat. She couldn't help but stare at his naked torso. The scars only made her want to touch them and learn what had marred his skin, they failed to dissuade her from the infatuation that was inflating. He was waving a stick, moving objects, changing them with a quick metamorphosis, destroying them, repairing them and all manner of things that no human she was aware of was capable of.

"Mr. Potter?" Sarah asked, hating to interrupt.

"Sarah," Harry called happily. "What are you doing here?"

"Close of business," she answered.

Harry looked at his watch. "Right, see you tomorrow morning."

"Goodnight, Mr. Potter," Sarah said and disappeared. On her way back to their office she fanned herself.

"Quite the secretary you've got there, Harry," Gary congratulated. "I think we can call it a day."

"Good," Harry cheered. "I'm bloody tired."

"I think we have what we need to form an accurate base," George said, saving their data.

Harry didn't want to think about what they were forming a base line for. Instead he pulled on his shirt, not bothering to button it, draped his jacket over his arm and disapparated.

George and Gary shared a look before running to the ambient sensor to investigate the readings that bit of magic would produce.

Harry reappeared in his living room. He arrived not more than a foot away from Kathryn. She looked up at him while chewing on her hand.

"Hello," Harry said, looking down at her.

Kathryn smiled.

"Let's find, Hermione, shall well?"

He lifted her in his arms and together they searched the house for Hermione. They found her at the kitchen table revising. The room smelled of lemons and herbs. Harry kissed the top of her head, uncertain if she had realized he was in the room and checked the contents of the stove.

Harry looked at Kathryn. "What do you think?"

Kathryn giggled and clapped her hands. "Me too."

Hermione still hadn't acknowledged their presence so he took the toddler upstairs with him and sat her on the middle of he bed. "Stay."

She looked at him blankly but didn't move. He quickly took a shower to wash off the sweat and grime he'd built up working for George and Gary. The door remained open so he could keep an eye on Kathryn. He dried off and dressed quickly then returned to the kitchen with Kathryn on his hip.

"'Lo, Hermione," Harry greeted.

"Harry!" Hermione said excitedly. "Did you just get in?"

He looked at Kathryn who seemed to understand more than she was letting on. "Yep, just in."

"Good," she said. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Smells good."

"Thanks."

"How's the revision coming?"

Hermione took her seat as he did Harry. "I want to stop studying because it's too easy, but I know if I do then I'll miss something and I can't afford that. It's boring. How was your day?"

He set Kathryn down to let her roam. "I was shot at, nearly killed the man who fired at me, ended up working with the man who tried to shoot me and then spent the rest of the day allowing them to watch me perform magic."

Hermione massaged her temples. "Try again, Harry. They tried to shoot you?"

"They weren't serious. It was a test designed to determine how much time someone with magic needed before they could disapparate to avoid the bullet."

"Are you insane, Harry?" Hermione asked loudly. "I mean really, you let them try to put a bullet in you and here you are as calm as can be."

"Even if I hadn't been able to move out of the way, which I would have been without a doubt, the bullet wouldn't have seriously damaged me," Harry explained, trying to soothe her.

"Harry," Hermione said and sat in his lap. "We're not in that world anymore. If you had been shot do you have potions on you, could you get to me, could you get to St. Mungo's? You would have been seriously wounded and then where would we be?"

"I'm not saying that nothing is going to happen to me, Hermione. If anything ever did, though, you would be taken care of."

"You don't get it, do you?" Hermione snapped and stormed out of the room.

Kathryn looked at him sadly.

"Do you know what that was about?" Harry asked Kathryn.

Kathryn stood up and tried to walk to him. She made it two steps before falling on her behind. The attempt made both of them smile. Harry then kept an eye on the food before setting it out when everything was ready

Harry knocked on the door to their bedroom. "Hermione? Dinner's ready."

Hermione cracked open the door. Instead of seeing Harry she saw Kathryn held up to her eye level. The baby smiled at her.

"That's unfair, Harry," Hermione sighed.

"She chose her side," Harry told her, and despite herself Hermione smiled.

"We'll see about that," Hermione replied taking Kathryn and rubbing noses with her.

"Hungry?" Harry asked.

"That's also, unfair," Hermione accused. "I cooked that meal."

"Which I salvaged," Harry teased.

Hermione shook her head and with Harry by her side went to the dining room. She placed Kathryn in a chair next to her and helped feed her as Harry and she ate.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Harry said at last.

"I know."

"Okay."

"Are you going to stop letting people try to kill you?"

Harry could help but laugh out loud and then slammed his hands onto the table. "You honestly think I'm letting them do this to me?"

Hermione stared steely-eyed at him, challenging him to contradict her assertion. "You aren't? I'm not stupid, Harry and I don't know why you suddenly think I am. I didn't stop you from enlisting with these people because I know that somehow you'd work with them anyway! Why are you doing this, Harry? You told me the only reason you were doing this was to find Kathryn and to take care of us. We don't need you to work there to take care of us."


	24. Reaffirming Presence

Chapter 24: Reaffirming Presence

He was running as fast as possible. People became a blur as he passed them on the sidewalks. There had been four of them that appeared from the entrance to the pub he knew contained access to the magical world's business district. Something about them had been wrong- the two women and the two men. Something had been very wrong about them and he wanted to know what that was.

Harry sent a message to Erika to have a team dispatched and at his command. There hadn't been a response and once they had noticed the first of them drop they all disappeared. He quickly hid the unconscious body of a man with transfiguration and then set off following the residue trail of apparation. The fools had all reappeared together instead of going their separate ways as he assumed they would. This time, instead of disappearing once more for a reason he didn't put an answer to, they ran.

He ran through the milling crowds with his fire arm raised held tightly in the palm of his hand. People parted at the last second upon hearing him declare that he was a copper. The badge dangling from his neck helped those that looked from a distance to confirm his identity.

One of them tripped and as Harry ran over the fallen man he used his wand to make sure he wouldn't get up until he returned. Another had run into oncoming traffic successfully dodging the many autos. He didn't hesitate as the woman stood on the hood of a car to overcome the obstacle. One shot dropped her backwards onto the hood of the vehicle. The fourth suspect was nowhere to be found.

The dispatched team arrived then by van. They had used their direct access to London's CCTV to determine the exact location of Agent Potter's position. The vehicle was large enough to hold an armored team comfortably and the skin of the transport was clearly up-armored. They rushed out of the back of the van in breach formation and quickly established a secure perimeter before receiving further instruction.

"Agent Potter?" the lead S.T.A.R. operative said.

"Three hundred meters back, this one and I'll bring the last myself," Harry answered, looking through the pockets of the now unconscious victim of his shooting.

He found her wand and snapped the wood without ceremony. The same procedure was carried out for the man they dragged back to the van and the transfigured woman.

The operative was waiting for the final word before returning with his team to their dispatch house.

"Orders?" the operative asked, watching his men secure the detainees in the rear of the second van. They had fastened their hands behind the back with thick zip ties and covered their heads with dark sacks.

"Prepare them for interrogation tomorrow," he ordered. "I'm going to find the last."

The operative delivered the signal to his team to pack everything up and remount. In seconds they were gone and Harry was walking the streets with his badge tucked away and gun reholstered. Somewhere along these streets there would be a hint of the trail and he was determined to find the last woman of the group.

Harry never noticed the fifth.

*****

He continued to lay in bed repeating the last words he'd heard in his dream. The dream he knew to be a memory from a time in his life not remembered. Hermione slept apart from him on the other side of the bed with the duvet clutched in hand and held to her down-turned chin. Harry swung his legs out of bed slowly so as not to awaken Hermione.

"Just a boy," he whispered, before pushing himself up. His shower was quick and morning rituals were carried out as habit.

Harry was leaning against the kitchen counter adjacent to the stove. He held a cup of coffee in one hand while the other braced him. The clock on the microwave displayed the time as just passed five in the morning. Again, his rest had been a short one and the hope of a decent night's rest wasn't in the deck. He hadn't bothered to turn on the lights, instead he relied on the light the microwave above the stove provided. The smell of brewing coffee was comforting a strange way and helped him sort his mind.

Hermione had explained the organization of his mind was the result of an intense study of occlumency. For a great while after he had woken up how he had been able to do the things he'd done didn't matter so long as he could. But once the decision to leave had been made he had taken to asking Hermione what she knew, everything she knew. These questions led to the now stocked library in his office. The exercises he'd marked for himself when he was fifteen were clearly highlighted in the texts and once he read the words he found that performing the magic was no easier, yet felt different on a base level. Harry still wondered if understanding his magic would pay a significant gain.

He pushed off the counter and walked to Kathryn's room. The bedroom was sparsely decorated with more than a crib and the necessities for raising a toddler. Family had been an idea pushed around in his head during the past year and a half abroad but now that Hermione and he had become one overnight the reality had set in. She was determined to become a medical doctor in the muggle world and held reservations about his continued involvement in the magical affairs of England. She was almost committed to raising Kathryn, almost more than he believed he was.

He had taken the little girl to visit the resting site of her parent's earlier in the week. Standing before Neville and Luna's graves holding their daughter was passing strange. Harry couldn't remember having said one word but felt that Kathryn even as he knew she wouldn't understand or remember need to be there. Hermione still hadn't visited that he knew of.

Now, standing over her crib and watching her sleep he couldn't help but consider the future. Hermione entered the room behind him dressed in one of his shirts. She didn't breach the silence as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave a lasting embrace.

Hermione took the cup of coffee from him without asking and tugged on his hand. He allowed himself to be led from the room and closed the door behind him before renewing the silencing spells.

He took a seat at the kitchen table while Hermione refilled his mug and filled one for her as well. When she returned his lap became her seat. Harry ran a hand through her hair while she savored the hot liquid and waited for the caffeine to take effect.

"Are you still not sleeping well?" Hermione asked. She knew the answer, of course, but wanted to know what he would say on this occasion.

He offered a small smile in response. There wasn't much sense in telling her what was already known between them. Harry just hoped she didn't blame herself.

"When are you leaving?"

Harry turned to look at the clock. "A quarter hour. What do you have on your schedule?"

Hermione twisted in his lap and straddled his legs. She wrapped her arms around his body, resting her head in the crook of his neck. "Class. I'm certain they'll be heaving."

He kissed her neck and stroked his hands up and down her back. She relaxed under his massage and began to kiss his neck.

"Hermione," Harry whispered, wrapping a handful of her hair in his fist and pulling her head away. Her lips were swollen and face flushed. He could feel her desire and she as well in his physical response.

He kissed her then, crushing his lips hungrily against hers. There were times when he thought he'd never get enough. "I can't. I have to be..."

"Shut up, Harry," Hermione murmured only breaking the kiss long enough to speak.

Harry lifted her and she was laid upon the table with legs wrapped around his waist. "This has to be quick."

She pulled him to her by his necktie. "There's no war and no fight. I want to you to just think about this."

*****

Harry strode passed Sarah and entered his office without a word. On his windowsill an owl waited with the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. He hung his overcoat on the coat rack to the right of his door and set his briefcase on the desk. From a dish next to the window he removed the proper change for the periodical delivery. He exchanged the newspaper for the money then set the creature on its way with the wave of his hand.

Before he had the opportunity to read the news his phone rang. He pressed the answer button on his speaker-phone. "Paranormal, Potter."

"Your presence is requested on level five," the voice of Ms. Sampson said in her monotone voice.

"I'm on my way," Harry replied, leaving the paper for later.

He closed the call then exited his office intent on taking the elevator. His previous use of apparation in the building had been greatly criticized by his superior. The ability was an incredible security risk and at present their department needed as little attention from their sisters as possible.

The trip to level five was spent in silent contemplation of whom they had waiting for him. He knew level five to be the holding cells and interrogation rooms.

"Mr. Potter," Ms. Sampson said. "This way please. When you failed to locate the remaining suspect I again dispatched a S.T.A.R. team after releasing the photograph we obtained of her."

Harry followed into the room filled with an assortment of monitoring equipment. He noted the emphasis of her use of failure.

"Our field agents had her picked up earlier this morning."

Harry looked to see whom Ms. Sampson referred to. Through the observation glass that separated the room he could clearly see a woman in her late thirties to early forties. She had extremely black hair that curled around a face comprised of sharp features. The woman, if she hadn't appeared so drugged and haggard, would have looked to be an old world aristocrat. With both hands secured behind her back the guards had her bound to the seat.

"Do you recognize this woman?"

Harry continued to stare. He recognized the woman by her photo in one of the many files he'd compiled surrounding Riddle.

"Yes," Harry answered. "Has she said anything yet?"

The technician at the desk who had been busying herself with the many pieces of technology responsible for monitoring the interrogation spoke up. "The suspect has been under sedation since her arrival. When you're ready to begin questioning we'll ring a medic to return presence of mind."

"Ring them," Ms. Sampson ordered.

The technician gave a nod and called using her cellular phone.

Harry continued his silent observation while waiting for the medic to arrive. Ms. Sampson had chosen to take a seat and read her various dossiers. He recited the facts in her file to himself and organized a series of questions that he thought might best produce the answers he sought. Over the past weeks his focus on Riddle had begun to shift upon discovery of the several factions that now controlled the magical realm of England. The information he'd received from Wes via their various dead-drops reported Riddle's government fractioning.

Bellatrix Lestrange was known to be a member of the inner sanctum of Riddle's organization. Countless deaths had been attributed to her direct contact as well as her orchestration. Her physical and magical prowess was not to be underestimated while her mental state was to be closely watched as well. The woman had spent a great many years in prison under the guard of Dementors who he knew to cause madness in prisoners through indirect contact. He knew her to originally be Bellatrix Black, sister to Andromeda and Narcissa, married to Rabastan Lestrange. He'd burnt the portrait of the last Black he knew.

He watched the medic enter the room holding the suspect. Two armed guards allowed him access and one held her arm while the medic injected her with a syringe of a reactive.

The medic looked to the one way mirror to where he knew they were watching and gave a nod. He then left the room and joined them in the observation chamber.

"You have perhaps five minutes before she comes to," the medic informed.

Ms. Sampson stood then. "I'll return shortly. There are several people who should be witness to this interrogation."

Harry presumed he would have to wait to ask his questions until the formal interrogation was conducted. He hadn't assumed that responsibility for the primary round of questions would fall to him.

He watched her regain the use of all senses. First, her eyes searched the empty room. Second, her limbs attempted to stretch themselves only to find they were bound together and not with magic. Third, her voice returned and early calm questions grew to be screamed invective. Then at last she was quiet and controlled. Her exploration had lasted no longer than ten minutes.

As she settled into the predicament several men filed into the observation room. Ms. Sampson began the introductions. Harry knew Michael, of course. The men he did not know were Mr. Pritchard who was the department head of S.T.A.R., Mr. House of department head of Inter-Service Intelligence, and Mr. Abraham Kober whom was not named as a member of any department or service.

"Gentlemen," Harry said, shaking each of their hands.

"That was an interesting display yesterday, Mr. Potter," Pritchard said, keeping his eyes on the suspect.

"Yes, it was," House agreed.

Harry didn't care for their condescending criticism. They were both indebted to one another and be found wounded without the resources that the other provided- Harry for their wide breadth of influence and authority they afforded him, and they for being the only true wizard they employed. Neither was under the impression that the other could be completely trusted but as a matter of mutual suspicion they had profited. Mr. Pritchard had been able to share all information gathered on magical infiltration and espionage with his special services department and successfully cleared 10 Downing street of all unauthorized material.

Mr. Pritchard's next goal was to rid the castles as well. No complaints had been filed in their known history but the very fact that they knew artifacts to be stored in the various residences of the royals was enough to invoke concern of possible future danger. He knew not when his department or that of special services would be required but he wanted them prepared and not at the whim of an unknown variable.

Mr. House had used the official reports filed by Mr. Potter to vet Her Majesty's services. They'd uncovered little and what they had discovered appeared without use for quite some time. He, along with, Mr. Pritchard shared the opinion of concern over possible future terrorist acts. Mr. Potter had already detailed the control Thomas Riddle had held over their hidden world and the preparation was already underway to combat any possible agenda the man held towards theirs.

"Are you prepared?" Mr. Kober asked Harry.

Harry said nothing and turned from the three men before him to the woman in the other room.

"If you're unprepared," Mr. Kober said, letting the insult hang.

"Yes," Harry suddenly said, apparently having not heard Mr. Kober.

The technician handed him a two way communication device he implanted in his right ear. He paused before leaving to receive their final thoughts. There were nods of acceptance all around and Harry showed himself out. A guard stationed outside opened the door for him into the room that held Bellatrix Lestrange. He was handed a file as he entered.

"Miss, Lestrange," Harry said, dropping a file on the desk between them and sitting down opposite her. "We've met before haven't we?"

"This is an interesting trick," Bellatrix purred.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked.

She ignored his question, leaning as far forward as possible. "Tell me, how were you able to find a sample of the boy?"

Harry smiled in answer. "I'm not particularly pleased to see you again. We're going to ask you a series of questions. I've been told to inform you that should you cooperate a substantial leniency may be granted toward your case."

Bellatrix cackled. Her body shook with laughter and the sound her shackles made echoed in the small room.

He opened the folder and spread out a series of still photographs. The pictures he presented to her were a catalogue various homicide scenes.

She never looked at the photos but squinted at the man she knew was pretending to look like Harry Potter. "Your disguise is quite authentic, but I have to admit I've seen better ruses."

"You've had quite a run, haven't you?" Harry inquired. He picked one of the photographs and studied the scene. The fact that she had not part in any of these crimes was of no matter. She had been responsible for much more according to the information Ben had provided.

Harry stared at the dead woman in the picture.

"What is your position in the government controlled by Thomas Marvolo Riddle?"

Bellatrix relaxed in her chair. "Soon, I'll cut out your tongue."

Harry smiled. He had found an approach.

In the other room, Mr. Pritchard turned to Ms. Sampson. "Has he ever interrogated anyone, Erika?"

"No," she answered. "I'm keen on learning what he has planned."

"Thomas Riddle," Harry denounced.

"The Dark Lord," Bellatrix hissed. "My Lord."

"Your Lord?" Harry mocked with a small smile. "Does he know you're here?"

"He sees all," she answered for the first time. "He'll come for me. Like the last."

"Like the last?" Harry asked, latching onto her fervor.

She pursed her lips.

He dropped the photograph and twisted his wand out of its holder strapped to his forearm. "Shall we do this the easy way?"

Bellatrix smiled. Her lord has shared the memory of killing Harry Potter. She would let this man continue his charade and expose him. Then, she would kill him and return to her lord with his head hopefully still in the guise of Harry Potter. His head would be added to the collection they had on display of all the other imposters.

Harry obscured the one-way mirror and kicked his chair back. She did jump at his suddenness but quickly adopted a seductive pose. Bellatrix spread her legs as he pushed the table out of the way.

Mr. Kober looked to the technician. "What did he do?"

The mirror was covered in a haze. "I'm not certain, sir. We're switching to cameras as our primary view."

The technician manipulated a series of keys and brought up a group of images from inside the room. The images displayed on the many monitors all showed nothing but static.

"Any other options?" Mr. Kober wondered, looking at his counterparts.

The technician switched to the only observation means remaining. A display of the two people in the room appeared on the monitors in the form of infrared shapes. They could clearly see the figure they assumed to be Mr. Potter press something against the knee of the person seated. In seconds they watched bright red spots explode from the space where what they assumed was a weapon had been.

The sound of screaming penetrated the haze of the mirror and the guard stationed outside the interrogation room found himself waiting for those in the observation chamber to appear and order him to open the door. No one appeared and thus he remained stoic at his post.

"Oh, yes," Bellatrix began to moan after she managed to regain control of her impulsive screaming. "Oh, Potter, I've missed real pain."

"Neville Longbottom," Harry said calmly. "How did you find him?"

Bellatrix laughed a little as Harry dug his wand into the marrow of her exposed femur. "You don't know how that feels."

"How?" Harry asked again, twisting his wand.

"He came back to us," she answered, shaking and perspiring. "Walked into the foyer of the ministry one morning. Wasn't a very difficult capture."

Harry electrified his wand with a thought and sent her body into convulsions. Blood continued ceased leaking from her extremity as a result of the heat. The acrid odor of blood and the sickly sweet smell of cooked flesh assaulted both their senses.

"This is much better than your first time, isn't it?" Bellatrix cooed, licking her lips. "My master used to be this kind."

He didn't know what she meant about his first time and assumed in his past he'd come across her in a similar scenario. What had he done then? He'd have to improvise to capitalize on the familiarity between them.

Erika made a note of what had just been said. Thankfully, along with the infrared sensors they still had operating microphones. She also marked a note to speak with her research and development sub-department to have them explore creating an observation system impervious to magical interruption.

With the subtle move of his wand he released her hands. "You're going to tell me everything."

He'd gotten too close when he whispered in her ear. She latched on to him and used her nails to drag long deep trenches in his forearm.

He slapped her then and Bellatrix recoiled as her head spun one hundred and eighty degrees. She used the back of her hand to wipe away the blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. The woman seemed to have compartmentalized the wound to her knee.

"Naughty," she teased.

Harry pressed his finger to his ear to ensure his voice was heard. "Make a note to have Miss Lestrange sent through the decontamination procedure. I'd like to ensure she doesn't keep any DNA that doesn't belong to her."

Bellatrix seemed to pout. "If I let you hit me again, would you let me keep it? I just want to know who I'm going to kill."

"Interesting choice of words, Mrs. Lestrange."

"Come now, Mr. Potter, Harry?" She speculated and primly sat up. "I know you're capable of so much more delightful pains. I haven't forgotten your first time. A girl never forgets taking a first. Have you mastered the desire yet?"

He wondered just what she was referring to.

She smiled a feral, toothy smile revealing her jaundiced teeth. "Oh, how I remember."

Harry wondered exactly what the oversight committee in the adjacent room thought of this encounter. He didn't miss the fact that her breath had quickened and her eyes had become slightly dilated.

"Would you like that Miss Lestrange?" Harry asked. "Would you like me to hurt you?"

"Only my master can hurt me, Harry," she snapped. She then changed her tone to a seductive hiss. "But you can keep playing with me if you like. I wouldn't mind."

"Does Voldemort play with you?" Harry asked evenly.

She moaned and squirmed in her chair. "You must be brave to pronounce my master's name. Will you say his name again?"

"Voldemort?" Harry asked with a curious smile.

She bounced her chair shaking the chains holding her to it. "One more time, please?"

Harry slowly said, "Voldemort."

"Very nice, Mr. Potter," she thanked him.

"That's a curious way to get yourself off, Miss. Lestrange. We know about the taboo and in here, no one heard you."

Bellatrix screamed and attempted to attack him once more. "Liar! My master hears all who dare to speak his name!"

Harry sat once more in his seat and waited patiently for her Voldemort to come and rescue her. He wondered if she was under the delusion that this was her fairytale. Was this her dark demented fantasy?

After five minutes of Harry's patient and ever-present smile Bellatrix was biting her nails while rocking back and forth. He looked to her missing knee cap and wondered if the rocking was a result of that, or whether she was truly beginning to worry.

"I hope he hasn't abandoned you," Harry said without console. "Again."

Bellatrix began to repeat a series of words in a unique phrasing pattern.

Harry was quick to stun her. Over the communication device in his ear he heard Ms. Sampson speaking.

"Potter, what was she doing?"

"Chanting," he answered. "I wasn't about to take the chance no matter how secure this room is supposed to be."

There was silence in his ear and he assumed she was discussing his answer with the other department heads

.

"I expect a report on this manner of magic by the close of business," Ms. Sampson ordered in response.

Mr. Kober was suddenly speaking to him. "How do you intend to proceed?"

Harry wrapped his hand around a fistful of her hair and lifted her unconscious head. "I'll revive her but I want her sitting in a holding cell. I want her to know that Riddle isn't coming for her. Write up a gag order as well, chants have to be vocalized."

"Understood, security will be there in a moment to relocate her," the technician said after receiving the go-ahead from her superiors.

Harry cast a second stunner as a preventative measure. He now had research of his own to do and returned to his office which now housed a great deal of his library from the manor.

*****

"ECMO stands for extra corporeal membrane oxygenation. There is a significant risk of internal hemorrhaging with increased risk present in neonatal care, such as the patient study you see before you."

Hermione's professor continued to lecture to the assembled class. They were all seated in of the universities lyceums trying desperately to take accurate notes while the man spoke. Most of the students came prepared with a micro-recorder but Hermione had no such device and was keen on purchasing one at the earliest convenience. She'd considered a quick quotes quill to maneuver around having the listen to the recording at a slower pace to rewrite the information but no spell she knew would hide a self-writing tool.

She was broken away from her concentration when a man placed his hand on her shoulder and leaned in to speak. "We'd like to have a word with you Mrs. Granger."

Hermione asked the girl sitting next to her if she would be able to borrow her notes later, and with a wave off and an assuring nod she went with the man.

Hermione was confronted by several men dressed in black business suites in the hall outside the entrance to the lyceum.

"We apologize for the interruption, Mrs. Granger," the man in the middle of their group said. He spoke with an American accent or what Hermione assumed someone from the states would sound like from the films she'd seen.

That was the second time they had referred to her as Mrs. Granger. She assumed that was something Harry had done and would ask about later tonight. These men didn't seem to be a threat but she was prepared nonetheless to disapparate. Her senses didn't detect any anti-apparation wards and if all else failed she had her emergency portkey attached to her necklace that took but one word to activate.

"My name is," the same man began, "well, my name isn't important. What is important is that we'd like you to speak with your husband."

Hermione did her best not to acknowledge her shock over their belief of her marriage. "What would you like me to say?"

"Our government is greatly concerned over your husbands breech of the International Statute of Secrecy. Given the circumstances we have been dispatched to offer the both of you and your daughter clemency as set forth by the International Confederacy bi-laws. The government of Thomas Riddle of Wizard England had not been recognized by the confederacy and thus as an extenuating circumstance cannot bear judicial restraint over your husband."

Hermione took a seat on one of the benches. "He's in breach of the statute of secrecy?"

"You're not aware that your husband has been consorting with the mundane government of the United Kingdom?" the American agent inquired.

"Consorting?"

"We have received several intelligence reports of his direct influence in informing the mundane government of magical knowledge. If you'd like a list of the potential laws he could be tried for I'm sure we could provide one."

"That's quite alright," Hermione dismissed, her mind far from a trial of someone they all believed to be dead.

The agent fished out a card from the wallet he kept in his breast pocket. "Here's my card. I trust you have a mobile and know how to contact me by this number?"

Hermione offered a blank look.

"We would like to speak with your husband as well, Mrs. Granger," the agent emphasized. "However, we've been unsuccessful so far at isolating him. We can help him, Mrs. Granger, but if he doesn't cease his aide of the mundane no matter the conflict between the two worlds on this island we'll be forced to take action and bring him in by force. Let him know that the issue of one Lord Voldemort is a matter best handled by our kind."

Hermione took his card. "Help him make the right decision, Mrs. Granger."

The lead agent looked to each of his men and they then departed. Hermione had no intention of returning to class after they had left her alone in the waiting area outside the auditorium. She entered the class only to retrieve her belongings and before apparating home, as a manner of suspicion attempted to enter the manor. She was rebuffed as she assumed would be the reaction. They had tagged her. Her belongings and clothes were left on the dock before she apparated to their home.

She reappeared in the living room of her home nude and quickly redressed. Her mind had gone turbo. They knew where she matriculated and the fact that they had referred to her by a married title may have been nothing more than a ruse to lure her. Harry had never said that he was operating under a nom de guerre or sobriquet so there was no reason to believe that they mistakenly took her for her mother. But then they'd mentioned Kathryn as her daughter.

Before going to see Harry she apparated outside the daycare center where Kathryn was enrolled. The apparation was the most magic she had used in almost two years and the rush that coursed through her from the energy made her felt afire. One of the primary reasons for their choosing of this particular children's center was the level of security offered.

After the scans to authenticate her identity the guards at the front desk allowed Hermione access. She found Kathryn in a group of similarly aged children playing with alphabetical blocks. The group's minder smiled at Hermione as she lifted Kathryn into her arms and the baby released a happy cry.

"Come on, love," Hermione said to Kathryn. "We're going to go see daddy."

The term had just come to her over the course of having been called his wife and Kathryn their daughter. She wondered what they all would have called one another when Kathryn grew old enough to require a title for them.

Outside the protective confines of the center Hermione hailed a taxi and directed the driver to the Thames House. The concern that she was being followed was not far from her mind and the worry that they would prevent her from entering the building somehow was at the forefront of her thoughts.

Hermione retrieved the necessary bills to pay the driver and then with Kathryn clutched to her chest she stepped onto the stairs leading up to the Thames House entrance. Not for the first time Hermione wished that Harry had shown her how to apparate directly to his office in the event of an emergency. Knowing Harry's appreciate for her sensibilities however, she both hated and loved him for his ignorance and care.

At the front desk she informed security of who she was and whom she was looking for. Moments later a young woman approached her and Kathryn and identified herself as Harry's assistant.

"I'm Sarah," the secretary introduced and withheld her hand in light of Hermione's preoccupation of holding Kathryn. "I'm Mr. Potter's assistance. I'll take you to his office."

"Where is, Mr. Potter?" Hermione asked with an edge to her voice.

Sarah pressed the button for sub-level 13 before answering, "I'm afraid Mr. Potter is giving a brief at the moment. Otherwise I'm certain he would have saw to you himself."

"I see," Hermione replied staring that pretty woman who was Harry's secretary. He hadn't mentioned her in any prior conversation. Not that Hermione had ever encouraged discussion of his current job.

They stepped off the elevator and Sarah led the way to the office they shared. "Through here, please."

Sarah held the door for Hermione and Kathryn and they stepped into the anteroom that was her domain. "I'd let you wait in Mr. Potter's office, but he's taken to sealing the door beyond my means of access."

Hermione held her tongue on exactly what she thought of the girl rooting around in Harry's office. "I'll manage."

She gripped the door handle with her free hand and incanted the emergency password that Harry had shared with her for access to all of his private domains. The lock clicked and Hermione pushed open the door. "When he returns let him know that we're inside waiting."

"Of course, ma'am," Sarah replied dutifully. She had the impression that the woman didn't hold much of a liking for her.

Kathryn was set on the carpet in front of the large sofa that rested in front of the fireplace. Hermione took in the sight that was Harry's office. His reason for sealing the door to all but his access was clearly visible when she took in the view that Harry had enchanted into the wall he'd made a window. No muggle should ever be witness to this. She wondered if this was one of the crimes that the International Confederacy could level against him.

On his desk she found several newspapers. Two were magical while the others were all standard publications across England. A picture of she and Kathryn was framed on the corner of his desk and she wondered when he had taken it. His bookshelves were lined with tomes she knew to have come from the manor. Hermione didn't discover any other magical elements to his office but wondered what else Harry had done to modify his space that she didn't detect. For the first time in an amount of time she couldn't put an answer to, she wished for her wand.

She sat on the couch watching Kathryn. "Are you going to be alright?"

The baby looked up at Hermione with a toothy grin. Hermione smiled back. "Wake me up when he gets here, will you?"

Hermione laid back on the sofa and closed her eyes.

Harry entered his anteroom and saw Sarah in a nervous state. "What's wrong?"

"There's someone here to see you," she answered.

For a moment Harry was worried until she qualified who was waiting for him. "A woman and a baby. I don't know how she got into your office but she opened the door without a key and without a stick like yours."

Harry nodded and entered his office, locking the door behind him. He silenced the room for good measure as well. He found Kathryn crawling around in front of the sofa and Hermione sleeping on her stomach upon the sofa.

Kathryn held her arms out to him and he obliged the girl.

"What are you doing here?" He whispered.

Harry knelt next to Hermione and lightly shook her shoulder. She moaned before opening her eyes and peeking through the hair that fell across her face.

"Hi," Harry said. "What's wrong?"

Hermione didn't move. "Agents of the International Confederacy came to see me today."

Harry sat Kathryn down. He hadn't expected her to say anything remotely close to that.

"They have a list of charges against you," Hermione said quietly. "I was told to tell you that you should quit helping muggles before they arrest you."

"I see," Harry replied.

"They also said that Voldemort was a problem for the magical world to deal with and that your help would be welcomed."

"I wonder why they aren't dealing with him, then?" Harry asked, rubbing her back. "So, they want me to quit working for muggles and instead come work for them?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "They also called me Mrs. Granger."

"Oh," Harry said. He'd forgotten completely to tell her. "About that."

The one eye that Harry could see was opened wide and waiting for an explanation. "We were married. Not officially of course, but for the purposes of our identities."

"Good job with the fake identities, Harry," Hermione criticized. "They came to me while I was in class. Tagged me for tracking.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry apologized sincerely. "I never meant for..."

Hermione sat up and through clenched teeth to keep her voice down from disturbing Kathryn attacked him. "Never meant for what, Harry? For this to happen... again. It's never over for you. It'll never be over for you."

He'd heard those words somewhere before.

"I asked you to stop," Hermione hissed. "I looked the other way when you couldn't help yourself. I covered my eyes when you told me Neville and Luna were dead! For what, Harry? For you to have charges compiled against you for violating international law? For you to work with muggles to try and topple, Riddle? What are you even fighting for? Do you know what it is you're trying to accomplish?"

All he knew was that he had to stop, Riddle.


End file.
